Getting Even
by cjh4ever
Summary: Events from 1982 lead to horrendous consequences for the TW team - and Cardiff - in 2008. All characters involved, with plenty of Janto too. Some chapters will be rated M, all are T for language and violence.
1. Prologue

_We begin with some history before getting into the meat of the story ..._

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><p><strong>Getting Even<strong>

Prologue

The Hub was buzzing as the team discussed the latest operation, buoyed up by their success in defeating the Jizm'll Horde. It had been close, as most of the operations were, but they'd succeeded and this time no one had died. There had been injuries – two broken bones, a wrenched shoulder, a bullet wound (from friendly fire) and three nasty gashes caused by Jizm'll horns – but they would all heal. At the moment the five walking wounded were queuing up to be treated by the doctor, littering the work area as they chatted and drank copious cups of hot, sweet tea.

Sitting in the far corner, Jack Harkness had his feet on a desk with the newspaper held up as a screen. He didn't want any 'little jobs' chucked his way and was keeping a low profile. The news from the Falkland Islands was keeping him interested anyway; _HMS Ardent_ had been sunk and the reporters were in full flood about what this meant. Following only a couple of weeks after the loss of _HMS Sheffield_ most saw this second sinking as a bad omen for the land battle yet to come. If only they knew … Jack's attention was diverted from the paper by the arrival, on the other side of the Hub, of three brawny lads carrying various boxes and other items of equipment. They were handsome boys and he lowered the paper to keep them in view; he planned on bedding at least one that night. His eye was on Barry, the short fair one that had eluded him thus far, but any would do.

Behind the lads came the plump figure of Susan with her ubiquitous clipboard and officious manner, bustling about trying to look important. She really is a pain, thought Jack, going back to his paper. The last two members of the team were in the armoury cleaning and returning the weapons to the racks. With twelve members this was one of the largest teams Torchwood Three had ever had, a result of interference from London who wanted a stronger presence in the Principality for a reason they had not shared with anyone else, unless Karen Wriggler knew. Team leader for the past two years, Karen was a tough cookie who appeared to handle London well but kept information to herself rather than share it with her team. Her attitude didn't help team bonding but this didn't bother her nor did the ribbing about her name; she had a thick skin.

"Jack!" The call came from the office perched alongside the raised work area. Karen was gesticulating at him, beckoning for him to join her.

"Boss must have the hots for you, Harkness," joked Sandy, one of the three handsome lads heading past with equipment boxes.

"She's not the only one." Jack leered, remembering Sandy's introduction to all-male action. That had been a memorable encounter which the boy had obviously enjoyed as he had come back for more than one repeat performance. Maybe he would be a better bet for that night.

Slowly and deliberately Jack folded the newspaper and took his feet off the desk. He stood and stretched before sauntering across the Hub, weaving between the desks littered around the place and waiting courteously for Susan to bustle by so as to prolong the time it took to reach the office. Making Karen wait was a small show of his independence, underlining his freelance status. He pushed open the office door and stood just inside, hands in his pockets and leaning on the filing cabinets, waiting to be noticed.

"Sit."

Jack stayed where he was, determined to show he was his own man. Karen had never made any attempt to get to know him, using him as cannon fodder when it suited her and rarely listening to his suggestions. He was rather tired of the whole thing and contemplating time away from Cardiff and Torchwood. He had enough money to tide him over for a few months and it had been a while since his last escape.

Karen raised her head and regarded him, taking in the arrogant stance and quirk of the lips. "Then at least shut the door." A pause. "Please."

He stirred at this and flicked a heel against the open door with just enough force to close it. He had practiced the move often. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"Your help." Resting her elbows on the desk, piled high with papers and dirty crockery, she continued to look at him steadily, her gaze never leaving his. Even his short disbelieving laugh did not put her off. "We have to do something about Wally."

"We?"

"The man's a liability. He's out."

Jack said nothing, looking through the round glass window to the armoury. John Wallswell, Wally to the team, was in there cleaning the weapons, dour-faced as always. He was a grunt, manpower for this over-sized team. Joining Torchwood from the Army, he had distinguished himself only by his arrogance and uncertain temper. Jack thought he drank too much too and was not surprised the man was being dumped.

"Take him somewhere as far from Cardiff as you can get and give him one of your forgetting pills. I don't want to hear from or of him again. See Susan for some funds." She looked down at file open on the desk, dismissing him.

Without a word Jack turned on his heel and left. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for, an authorised trip away from the city from which neither he nor Wally would return. He was whistling as he walked to the armoury.

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><p><em>The action moves to early second season Torchwood (2008) in the next chapter. What is the link between the two times? Stay with the story and find out ... I'll post the next chapter tomorrow. <em>


	2. Chapter 1

_After a slight delay due to FF problems, I am finally able to post the next chapter. It is 2008 and it's the calm before the storm ..._

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><p><strong>Getting Even<strong>

Chapter One

The day started off quite normally, for Torchwood that is. Not many citizens of Cardiff or any other UK city started work by capturing a pair of Hoix in a bakery-cum-sandwich shop but that was Torchwood's task first thing on Wednesday. Now the excitement was over and the Hoix were lying unconscious at their feet, the four team members had a moment to regroup.

"Gwen, sort out the boys in blue," said Jack Harkness, nodding towards the nearby police presence, "then get down to the hospital and check on the injured. Retcon them all. Owen, you do the bystanders." There were plenty of those even at seven in the morning. "Use CCTV to track down any who've left. Tosh, keep a lid on this, I don't want people posting it all over the Net. Bloody blogs! It was much easier in the old days."

"When Queen Vic was on the throne?" said Owen Harper sarkily. He was annoyed at drawing the short straw yet again. It would take hours to sort out the witnesses while Gwen only had to cosy up with her police buddies and make a hospital visit; it wasn't fair.

"When people knew their place and didn't sneak?" teased Gwen Cooper with a smile. "For God, Queen and Empire," she added mockingly, standing to attention.

"I'll put a cover story up too, shall I, Jack?" asked Toshiko Sato, ignoring her colleagues. She was already tapping at her PDA, creating a virus that would locate any reference to the incident and take down the site.

"Yeah." Jack also ignored the others' larking about and spoke into the comms earpiece. "Ianto, we have clean up. Two Hoix."

"_On my way."_ Ianto Jones's tone was clipped and professional. No one would realise that when the call about the Hoix had come in, an hour before, he had been bent over the table in the boardroom in the throes of energetic sex with Jack. _"ETA seven minutes."_

Jack smiled, remembering the earlier encounter which had included repeated use of a stopwatch. "I'll time you." He was rewarded with a faint chuckle over the comms.

"God, they must have been at it again," commented Owen with disgust as he turned to survey the knot of people gathered around. The shop owner and three assistants were there with two staff from the nearby newsagents, the only shops open at this hour. The other couple of dozen people were passers-by and customers and included a couple of school kids. This was going to be hell.

Toshiko had returned to the SUV and was now in the back seat, typing furiously on one of the computer keyboards. Her forehead was creased in concentration and she probably wouldn't have heard a bomb go off beside her. She had already uploaded the virus and set it loose in the virtual world to do its worse.

"Right, better get on." Gwen put a hand to her hair which was blowing in the wind that whistled down the street. This was an older part of the city and the streets were narrow and straight, a man-made wind tunnel on days like this. "What are you going to do?" She felt no compunction about asking; Jack may be her boss but he had a habit of disappearing when there was clean-up to be done which did not sit well with the rest of the team. As Jack's deputy it was her job to remind him of that from time to time.

"I'll get back to the Hub, soon as Ianto gets here. The Krittenack won't find itself."

He smiled down at her, not at all put out by the challenge. She had so much drive and determination they often locked horns over the best way to proceed but, at the end of the day, he knew he could rely on her to do her job and to back him up. Just as he could rely on Toshiko, Ianto and Owen, despite the latter's sarky comments. They were a team and a good one. And, he thought, all the better for being small and close-knit: the large Torchwood teams had always been a washout.

"All right. See you back there." She went off, making for Sergeant Miller who had once been her boss. He was a sensible bloke who would help her sort out this mess.

Ten minutes later, Jack and Ianto had loaded the two Hoix into the back of the battered van kept for messy work. Ianto drove the van, following Jack who was in the SUV, back to the Hub. Toshiko went immediately to her desk leaving the two men to haul the unconscious Hoix into adjoining cells. Once that was done, Ianto went out to collect pastries for breakfast and Jack sat in the office, ploughing through the paper files and computer records for the information he needed on the Krittenack. He was sure there was something from way back that would help them locate it but he couldn't put his finger on it and was hoping there was something in the records to jog his memory. It was matter of keeping looking until he found it. He glanced up when Ianto entered with coffee and a box of pastries.

"Anything?" asked the Welshman, putting down the coffee and holding out the box.

"Not yet. But I'll find it. There's something about the Krittenack that we're missing, something that'll help us track it." He reached into the box and took an iced raisin whirl.

"I hope so, sir. It's already put two people in Providence Park, we don't need any more." The Krittenack was a resident alien, one of those Jack had - reluctantly - allowed to remain in Cardiff. It was a chameleon that could take human form and the asylum deal had been based on it only reverting to its natural self in private. Now the deal had been broken and two people had been sent to the psychiatric hospital after seeing it.

"You don't need to remind me!" Jack snapped out the retort and immediately regretted it. It wasn't Ianto's fault they had been at least two steps behind the Krittenack for the past week. "Sorry."

"'S okay." Ianto smiled and held out the box again. "Have another, sugar rush might help."

Unused to being offered additional sweet, sticky foods, Jack quickly took an apple turnover before the box was withdrawn. "Thanks."

"I'll go clean the boardroom. Bit messy down there." The deadpan expression was belied by the twinkle in Ianto's eye and the one raised eyebrow. Both men knew exactly how it become messy.

"No point," mumbled Jack, his mouth full. After swallowing, he continued, "Only going to make it messy again."

"You have work to do." Ianto left him to it, retreating before Jack decided he needed more sex: the man was insatiable.

-ooOoo-

St Helen's Hospital was like many built in the last thirty years all over the UK, a modern building of concrete and glass and long, long corridors. Gwen had been in A&E checking on the injured and surreptitiously giving them Retcon, not the easiest job in the world when nurses were hovering and measuring everything eaten or drunk. One of the injured had been transferred to a ward and she had had to traipse around trying to find him, following confusing and just plain wrong directions, until discovering him on a trolley. Now she trudged down her fourth anonymous corridor of the morning sure a blister was forming on her left heel; she should have known better than to wear new boots without breaking them in first. Beside her was PC Andy Davidson, her former partner, who had stopped her when she was trying to leave the building.

"Tell me about this again," she said to break the silence that was growing oppressive. Andy had been distant with her for the past month, ever since she had told him about her wedding plans. It was only to try and heal the breach that she had agreed to look at his case.

"Nineteen year old student from the university, Rebecca Louise Carpenter," he said from memory. "Was found in the underpass near Cathay's station at 2.24 this morning by a railway worker on his way home. Been there about an hour. Any longer and she'd have bled out, or so the docs say. She was brought straight here."

"She'd been attacked?" He nodded. "Raped?"

"Doesn't appear so. And nothing was taken, still had her bag with cash in it, watch and jewellery. It's the injuries that are odd. Bang on the head and lots of deep marks, almost like an animal."

Gwen immediately imagined Weevils. "Bite marks?"

"No. Why?"

"You said animal. Main reason they'd attack is to feed." She noticed Andy's disgusted look. "What?"

"Christ, you're cold! Talking like it happens every day!"

This reminder of how much she had changed in the year and a bit she had been working for Torchwood brought her up short. Andy was right, she was far less squeamish and far more cynical about human – and alien – nature and the results. She cared for the people affected but her compassion was channelled into action. Even as she thought this, another part of her brain was telling her that this was not a Weevil attack, they always used their fearsome teeth.

"She's in here." Andy opened the door to a small ward and held it for Gwen to enter.

The ward was across from the Intensive Care Unit and took cases not quite bad enough to earn a coveted place there but which still required specialist nursing. White painted walls were the backdrop to large monitors and associated equipment clustered around each of the six high beds placed in threes along either long side. A chair and cabinet separated each bed with pull-across screens for privacy. There was no natural light, probably because the patients here were mostly unconscious or comatose. Andy checked in with the nurse on duty and then led the way to the middle bed on the right.

The girl was lying still, connected to various monitors that confirmed she was breathing for herself and that her vitals were more or less stable. Gwen moved closer, taking in the matted fair hair shaved around a blindingly white bandage above her left ear. Her face was bruised and dirty like the rest of her body. The medical staff had cleaned the wounds but left her alone otherwise until she was out of danger. Deep gashes on her arms showed clearly, left open to prevent infection from debris and allow for easy and repeated cleansing. Other lesser gashes on her torso and legs had been lightly dressed with bandages and were covered by a hospital gown.

"She put up a fight," commented Gwen. "These are defensive wounds." With her mobile, she took photographs of the open wounds and sent them to Owen with a brief text message. She was pretty sure they were not Weevil but wanted his confirmation.

"Yeah. You think it's one of yours?" Since Gwen had been with Torchwood, he had come to regard anything slightly out of the norm as for her.

"I don't know, Andy. I've sent photos to one of my colleagues, he'll -"

"Not Mulder!"

"No, not to Jack." She was always patient with Andy. Having a friend on the police force on whom she could rely when she needed help was too important to be thrown away in a hissy fit. "He should get back to me soon," she continued hoping Owen would not make her into a liar; the doctor could be childish. "What else do we know about what happened?"

Andy smiled, liking her use of 'we' again. He missed her, as a partner and as a friend. Referring to his notebook, he said, "She was on her way back to her Residence - Aberdare Hall in Corbett Road - from work; she's a barmaid at Kitty Flynn's. Left there just after midnight – she'd stayed behind to help clear up – and took the train with a colleague. Rebecca got off at Cathays while her friend, Sarah Price, continued on to Radyr. We're checking CCTV to see if Rebecca was followed from the station."

"Any other attacks around there?"

"Not like this. There's a bloke exposing himself to women but he's never attacked anyone."

She was about to say something when her mobile rang. The display showed it was Owen calling and she moved slightly away from Andy to take the call. "Hey, Owen. Thanks for getting back so soon."

"_Anything to get a break from running round Cardiff after these bleeding people,"_ he complained. _"Your wounds are pretty uniform and while they're deep they're not exceptionally ragged. It's not Weevil." _

"I didn't think so."

"_Then why'd you bother me?" _

"Wanted to be sure and you're the expert." His displeasure did not bother her. "Any idea what it is?"

"_Might be a machete. There's one with a wide, weird-shaped blade. A kukri, I think it's called. Could have done this." _

"Okay, thanks." She ended the call and turned back to Andy. "He thinks it might be a knife after all, a kukri."

"Not an animal?"

"Don't think so. Sorry, Andy, this is a straightforward attack. You'll probably find it's a jilted boyfriend, one of the easy ones to solve."

In the coming days, Gwen was to remember her words and realise how even the most straightforward crimes lead to worse ones. And that Torchwood had a strange affect on those who worked for it.

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><p><em>Many thanks to all who reviewed and alerted, much appreciated. More coming very soon ...<em>


	3. Chapter 2

**Getting Even**

Chapter Two

They found the Krittenack on Thursday afternoon. He had taken human form again and was drinking Coca-Cola in one of the pavement bars in Mermaid Quay when Jack took the seat opposite. "Who's been a naughty boy then?"

"You don't know what it's like. This form is so … confining." The alien had gone for the older look this time and looked every inch the businessman between meetings. His greying hair and moustache were matched by a black three-piece suit. He even had a briefcase on the table.

"You're the one who asked for asylum and that was the deal. Seeing as you won't stick to the rules then you'll have to come live at my place." Jack waved the waiter away; he didn't want a drink, this wouldn't take long.

"That hole in the ground!" The disguised Krittenack glared in the direction of the water tower. He leant forward and said, "Just how are you planning to get me down there?"

"A quick stroll down the boardwalk and Bob's your uncle. But I'll let you finish your drink." Jack sat back, enjoying the sunshine on his face and the fresh, salty breeze coming off the Bay.

"I don't think so, Jack. Never did like living in sewers, especially if I'm sharing with you." He drained his glass. "I'll be on my way now."

"You're coming with me."

The Krittenack smiled. "No, I'm not. I'm going to walk away and you're going to let me because if you don't I'll get rid of this ridiculous disguise. Want to send all these people mad?" He gestured to the surrounding tables where people were sitting enjoying the early Spring sunshine.

Jack pursed his lips. "You wouldn't do it."

"I would." The Krittenack pushed back his chair.

"You can't get away."

"And how are you going to stop me?" He was on his feet, smiling in triumph. It wasn't often anyone outsmarted Jack Harkness; the rest of the resident aliens would be impressed.

"Don't be silly, mate. Just come quietly, eh?" Owen had come up on the alien's left. Gwen was on the other side with Ianto bringing up the rear. "No need for any trouble."

"You'd risk them?"

Jack, still seated, smiled up at him. "No risk involved. Now, let me show you some Torchwood hospitality."

"No. I warned you!"

The human form shimmered for an instant then reformed. The Krittenack tried again but couldn't shake off the form he had assumed. Cursing, he lashed out but Owen and Gwen soon had a firm grip on him and Ianto slapped on the cuffs.

"How?" hissed the alien, shoulders slumping.

"That shape-changing circuit in your brain uses ploinine energy. Emits it too. We're blocking it. Of course, you made it easy for us by coming down here. Wanted to show off, I suppose." Jack rose to his feet in one lithe movement. "Take him away."

Gwen let Owen and Ianto do the honours. She followed Jack who was strolling in the direction of Roald Dahl Plass, jogging to catch up with him. "Where are you going?"

"It's too nice to be indoors. I'm going to take a walk around my town."

"Your town?" She fell into step alongside him.

"Yeah. Where to go?" He stopped and looked around. Left to the city centre or right by the water?

"Round the Bay." She put her arm through his and they set off.

The walk took them past the Pierhead Building, the Welsh Assembly Office and on to the Norwegian Church. They paused by the Scott Memorial, leaning on the railing and looking out across the water. Boats were taking sightseers around the Bay and a small flotilla of yachts from the Portway Marina headed through the barrage into the Bristol Channel. It was a peaceful and familiar scene. Deciding to stretch their legs further, Jack and Gwen strode out for the Barrage past blocks of flats built in the last few years as part of the redevelopment. The wind – chilly in this exposed place - caught them as they crossed the Barrage and they decided to stop in the small café and get a cup of tea.

Sitting at the metal table, Gwen was content with her companion's silence. He was in a contemplative mood and she didn't want to spoil it for him. As she sipped her drink, she had one eye on the small television set high on the wall but her mind was on wedding preparations; the big day was still some way off but there was a lot to organise. A photograph on the screen put thoughts of colour schemes out of her mind.

"Could you turn it up, please?" she asked the man behind the counter. Moving closer, she concentrated on the local news report.

"… _attacked in the early hours of yesterday. Rebecca Carpenter, a student from Leicester, was in her first year at Cardiff University. Police say there is no cause for alarm but people out at night should be vigilant. Anyone with information should contact Cardiff Police on …" _

"What is it?" Jack was beside her, also watching the screen.

"I saw her yesterday. It's one of Andy's. I didn't think she'd die."

"Something for us?" Jack took her arm and steered her out of the café.

"No. Some strange cuts made Andy think it might be but Owen said not." She stood on the pavement, hands jammed into her jacket pockets. "I don't understand why she died."

"Call Andy and find out. Let's take the ferry back."

They walked quickly down to the water's edge where the ferry was approaching its regular pick-up point. Once on the boat, Jack paid while Gwen dug out her mobile and hit speed dial. The one-sided conversation made no sense to Jack, so he concentrated on the view. The glass exterior of the St David's Hotel was blinding in the sun. It was a beautiful day. He regretted not having sent the others out to enjoy it too, they spent too much time underground. The boat was past the hotel and National Techniquest when Gwen put away her mobile.

"Well?" he asked.

"It was the head wound. Apparently there was bleeding on the brain which wasn't spotted in time. Doctors thought the other wounds were more serious. She went into convulsions and died just before noon."

"How old was she?"

"Nineteen. Whole life ahead of her." Gwen had been that young once, enjoying her first taste of freedom at the same university. Perhaps that was why the death of this stranger was unsettling her.

"Too young. But not ours?"

"No, nothing to do with us. They're looking at other students, boyfriends. Or it might have been some random weirdo."

"Let's hope they catch him whoever he is. We don't need the city in a panic, makes our job just that bit harder."

Citizens on the look out for murderous attackers reported every oddity and might also see otherwise unnoticed alien activity. If panic set in, the team would be running round Cardiff chasing down shadows. Unfortunately, panic is just what Jack got.

-ooOoo-

The Press Room was large and today it was packed. Andy stood at the side and tried to blend in, not easy when he was in uniform. As the first officer on the scene, Andy had wangled his way onto the team investigating the murder of Rebecca Carpenter. He hadn't been given much to do so far as there weren't any leads, as made clear in this Press Conference. Inspector Tim Pugh had nothing new for the reporters but it was important they include details on their television reports and in tomorrow's papers. Leads don't materialise out of thin air; the police needed someone who had seen something to come forward. If nothing solid emerged they were planning to get the parents to do an appeal. Mr and Mrs Carpenter had arrived yesterday evening and sat with their daughter but she had not regained consciousness. Now they were holed up in a hotel, grieving and being quizzed by the detectives for anything that might help find Rebecca's killer. Andy hoped something would come of it all.

-ooOoo-

"Nice walk?" Ianto stood leaning against the filing cabinets in the office. Jack was sat at the desk, feet up while drinking the coffee Ianto had just brought in. The rest of the team had gone home.

"Lovely."

"You going to check the emitter? Tosh was keen you did. We don't want it to fail."

"She should have more confidence in herself. But, yes, I'll check it. Where have you put him?"

"Block three, on his own. The emitter is just inside the main door." The Krittenack had settled into the cell peacefully enough once convinced he could not change shape but Ianto was still wary around him. He had a horror of ending up in Providence Park with the others who had seen the alien in his natural form.

"Okay." Jack drank the last of the coffee. "I'll do it now."

"Thanks. Rift looks quiet tonight. Feel like doing something?"

"I always feel like doing you." Jack was on his feet and walking round the desk.

"I was thinking of getting something to eat."

"So was I." With practiced ease, Jack drew Ianto towards him until they were touching. The kiss was practiced too, a mutually enjoyable coming together of lips, tongues and teeth. They pulled apart but stayed close.

"So, meal?" prompted Ianto.

"You paying?"

"As long as I choose."

Jack drew back and groaned. "Not vegetarian again!"

"It's good for you. Be ready at seven." Ianto smiled and walked off. He actually felt like Italian tonight but he wouldn't tell Jack until they got there.

-ooOoo-

The death of Rebecca Carpenter was second lead on the late BBC national television news. The editor had bumped it up the running order for three reasons: she was pretty; current concern about the safety of university students following a report by the Department for Education; and she was pretty.

In a bed-sit in Glasgow, a man suddenly paid more attention. He had not been in long after driving his lorry up from Dover that day. Unloading the bathroom fittings had taken ages. They were one down in the warehouse and inveigled him into helping with the promise of a pint. After a couple in the Phoenix, he had left the car and walked home rather than risk losing his licence. It wasn't far and the curry house was on the way. He had been eating when the news had come on but now he ignored the half-empty containers and picked up the remote. Flicking on the red button he checked the BBC news page but there was nothing more about the death there. None of the other channels had anything either.

The laptop lay on the bed. Watching porn helped him get off to sleep and when that didn't work, there were the adult chat rooms. He grabbed it, booted up, typed 'Rebecca Carpenter' into Google and waited. The broadband connection was supposed to be fast but he always seemed to be waiting for it to do its stuff. As the minutes passed, he hoped it was another Rebecca Carpenter. He hadn't known she was at university so it could be someone else. Finally a list of results appeared. Ignoring the sponsored sites, he clicked on the Cardiff Police link. He cursed at the delay as adverts and pictures he wasn't interested in took their time to appear delaying the text he wanted to read. Eventually he was able to scroll through the report. It was as the television news had said, Rebecca had been attacked in the early hours of Wednesday morning and died before lunch on Thursday. He read the details twice but there was no mistake, it was Becky. There was a picture of her, hair swept back and laughing; a pretty girl with her whole life before her. He had never seen the picture before but it was enough like the others he had of her – in the last, from six years ago, she had been tubby with braces on her teeth - for there to be no doubt.

He sat back on the bed. Six years. It had been six years since they'd last met and for the past five he had had no contact at all. His fault, all his fault. Driving was a good job but it took him away, especially doing the European runs. He had missed birthdays but had really blotted his copybook when he'd turned up in the lorry one Christmas and drunk so much he couldn't drive. Having an articulated lorry stuck outside your suburban semi for thirty-six hours until he was sober had sent Carole off on one. Becky had been embarrassed by him and her mum and at fourteen, when all she wanted was to fit in, there was nothing more calculated to turn her against him. Her rejection had hurt at the time but work and the daily grind of everyday living had meant he seldom thought of her. When he did, he always assumed there was time to mend bridges and to get to know her again as an adult.

Not now.

She was dead and no one had even bothered to tell him. Anger coursed through him. Bloody Carole and Brian! With gritted teeth, he checked out the other links thrown up by Google, all local newspapers, but learnt nothing more. If he wanted answers, he would have to go there himself. He had the time. His next run, to Milan, was not for three days; ample time for a trip to Cardiff. The AA website confirmed the map he carried in his head. A straight run of a little under 400 miles that would take about six and a half hours. Add on time for breaks and he could be there tomorrow afternoon if he started early. His mind made up, he stripped and got into bed. A few hours sleep now and then he'd be ready to set off.

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><p><em>And so the plot thickens. Who is this man? Will Jack and Ianto have a good evening out? Find out in the next chapter ... <em>


	4. Chapter 3

**Getting Even**

Chapter Three

Ianto lay in the narrow bunk under Jack's office for several minutes after waking up. The cramped sleeping arrangements were acceptable as Jack rarely stayed in the bunk for long giving Ianto room to stretch out. The meal the night before had been followed by a late movie – a horror film that had made them both laugh – and awesome sex. Sex with Jack had always been good but since his return there had been an added dimension that was hard to describe. More caring? Perhaps. Ianto certainly felt the relationship was more equal now. He looked up when footsteps overhead stopped at the open hatch.

"You getting up anytime soon? I need a coffee."

Ianto saw an elongated version of Jack towering above him. "No breakfast in bed then?"

Jack disappeared for a moment. "Here you go." Something small and orange hurtled towards the bunk.

Ianto scrambled to one side but was still hit by the object, a clementine. "Ow! Very funny."

"I thought so. Time you were up and doing."

Jack disappeared once more but the creak as he sat in the swivel desk chair clearly indicated he wasn't coming back this time. Propped up against the wall, Ianto ate the clementine as he considered the day ahead of him. A quiet one if, as Toshiko predicted, the Rift was not going to send them anything. There would be time to digitise more of the old records and to clean the coffee machine. Ianto hummed to himself as he finally got out of bed and put the pieces of clementine peel tidily in the bin. It was going to be a good day.

-ooOoo-

The newspaper and television reports had done their job and the telephone hotline had been busy for hours. Citizens across Cardiff 'phoned in reports of strange men seen around the scene of the attack on Rebecca Carpenter and elsewhere. Amazing how many people thought there was link between something seen in Splott and the attack in Cathays. As always, the police had to prioritise the reports and focus on the most likely leaving the less credible and plain ridiculous for later. Andy Davidson had been given a good lead to follow up: a customer in Kitty Flynn's had been seen to pester Rebecca on the night she died.

Andy's first task was to identify the man. The pub landlord had not seen anything. He had been crisis managing in the kitchen most of the evening - one of the chefs had thrown a wobbly - and had left the bar to his staff. Andy interviewed a couple of them who were covering lunchtime but the rest would have to wait until the evening when they came on duty. There was no CCTV in the pub but the HSBC Bank opposite had cameras covering the whole of this end of the street. Checking with the security chief, Andy got copies of the tape for the night in question. Hopefully the informant, another customer, would recognise the man entering or leaving. A face would help them far more than the current description: medium height, dark hair and wearing dark top and trousers.

Entering the police station in mid-afternoon, Andy was halted by the desk sergeant. "Got a bloke here about the murder. Rest of the team is out, can you have a word with him?"

"I suppose." Andy took the form with the man's details and ushered him into an interview room. "Right, what can I do for you?"

"It's like I told him out there. I'm Becky's father and no one's been in touch with me! I should have been told!" He banged the desk with a fist. "Had to find out on the telly."

"Calm down, sir. No need to get in a state."

"My daughter's dead!" The man half-stood and leant forward, palms on the table. "And you piss-heads haven't told me. Of course I'm in a state!" He was of middling height and powerfully built with solid muscle under the start of middle-aged fat. Andy leant back so as not to provoke him further.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I must ask you to sit down. We'll get nowhere with that language." Experience had taught him a firm, calm tone worked best in these situations.

The man sat, running a hand through short, greying hair. He was tired after the drive down from Glasgow, there had been hold-ups round Manchester, and frustrated at not getting answers.

"Thank you," continued Andy. "We were informed that Mr and Mrs Carpenter were Rebecca's parents. You telling me that's not true?"

"Brian's her step-dad. I'm her dad. That bitch Carole is behind this! Always wanted to get me out of Becky's life – and she succeeded! Well I'm not standing for it!" The fist made contact with the table once more.

Andy did not react, the man was letting off steam not threatening him. "Let's run through all the details then I'll contact them, check things out."

"Check out my story, you mean? Who the hell would make something like this up!"

"You'd be surprised, sir, you'd be surprised."

In half an hour, Andy had calmed the man and fleshed out the information on the form. Unfortunately, the Carpenters were not at the hotel or answering their mobile numbers and until Andy could speak to them he couldn't divulge details of the case to this man who really could be anyone. He had not produced any documentary proof to back up his story and there were plenty of weirdoes who might pretend just to get attention.

"I'm not sure how long it will be, sir," said Andy coming back into the room after his unsuccessful attempts to contact the Carpenters. "How about a cup of tea while you wait?"

"I need a smoke."

"Not inside, sir, sorry. We've got a designated area, I'll show you. When you're done, come back in and the sergeant with get you that tea."

The converted bicycle shed was at the side of the station. It provided inadequate cover from the weather but the carpet of cigarette ends all around showed it was nevertheless well-used. In fact, Constable Pam Jones was using it when Andy left the man there. He wasn't there an hour later when Andy came looking for him.

-ooOoo-

The city traffic was nose to tail from the centre to the Bay. The Countryside Alliance was out in force to protest against the ban on hunting with dogs, introduced three years earlier, and more recent supposed encroachments on the rural way of life. Roads had been closed to allow the hundreds of protesters to congregate and march with their banners through the city centre, down Lloyd George Way to the National Assembly Office. Owen and Toshiko were stuck in the traffic, crawling forward an inch at a time as police grappled with the twin task of keeping the protesters to the designated routes and vehicles moving.

"Why here?" asked Owen. "Why Cardiff?"

"They're doing it everywhere. Trying to make city people understand their concerns."

"Lot of hooey. I mean, who wants to chase foxes anyway?"

"They do." Toshiko smiled remembering Owen on the trip to the Brecon Beacons. If ever there was someone destined not to understand countryside concerns, it was him.

"Umm." For once it didn't matter much how long they took to get back to the base and Owen was relaxed about their slow forward momentum. He watched the people as they funnelled out of Queen Street before taking a left into Working Street. There were more older people than usual and they were better dressed. A gang of younger ones caught his eye. "Look at them! Silly idiots."

"Which?" Following Owen's pointing arm, she saw about twenty or so young people – students perhaps – wearing deer heads with antlers. They kept in a coherent group and zigzagged back and forth across the street, raising and lowering their heads like the real animals. "That's clever."

"More inventive than the rest of 'em." He went forward a few feet as the car in front moved and then stopped again. "But what's it got to do with foxes?"

"Don't ask me. Maybe the politicians are banning stag hunting too."

"They ban everything good. Or tax it. The duty on beer just went up, and petrol."

"You should be out there with them," said Toshiko.

She rested her head back and closed her eyes. It was sunny outside and warm in the Porsche. The smell of polished leather from the seats filled her nostrils along with the faintly medicinal smell that accompanied Owen most of the time. It was pleasant to be out of the Hub. They had checked out an antiques dealer who used to trade in alien artefacts, until scared off by Jack, just to make sure he knew they were keeping an eye on him. He did now, Owen had made sure of that.

"Here we go." Owen put his foot down as the traffic started to move again. They were through the worst and would soon be back in the Hub. Neither he nor Toshiko noticed the stocky man on the pavement watching the protesters pass.

-ooOoo-

Seeing the antlers did it.

The man stared at the weirdly dressed young people, the Castle behind them, and a memory returned. Larger creatures with horns like that. A dark, wet night. He had been here and seen them. Stunned, he stumbled away until he found himself in a park. Bute Park, he thought, although he did not know how he knew that. There were quite a few people in the park with him, enjoying the sunny day, and he instinctively avoided them, walking further into the less-populated areas. A patch of woodland had been allowed to grow wild and he stepped over a low fence and pushed between branches showing their first green leaves. A few steps in and he was hidden from view. Standing with his back to a tree trunk, he returned to that single memory. By concentrating hard, other details returned along with other memories.

It was dark when he finally moved. He had somewhere to be.

-ooOoo-

"Aren't you ready yet, Tosh?" Gwen adjusted the collar of her jacket, settling it more comfortably.

"Just coming." She tapped a few more keys and then took off her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "That's done."

"What is?" asked Jack coming out of the office.

"Starting a clean-up on the database. Ianto added loads of records today and it'll be slow unless it's de-fragged. Good time to do it with us all out." Toshiko was standing and took her leather coat from Gwen. "Thanks."

"Where we going then?" asked Owen. He was swivelling his chair from side to side, ready to leave ever since Jack had suggested they go out for a drink.

"Your choice," said Jack, "provided it's not karaoke." He put his greatcoat on and smiled when Ianto joined them. "Ready?"

"Uh-huh. What were you saying about karaoke? I am not singing." His face set in a determined glare.

Owen snorted. "But you're Welsh, you lot always sing. Football matches, rugby matches, on street corners. Probably do it in bed too."

Jack grinned. Ianto did sing in bed, soft lullabies that helped Jack sleep when unpleasant memories haunted him. Deciding not to mention this, only a fool would undo all the hard work since returning from the year that never was, he clapped his hands together and said, "Let's go."

Gwen and Owen fell into a lively discussion about various pubs and clubs, rejecting one another's suggestions, as the team left the Hub via the cog door, lift and Tourist Office. They wandered aimlessly up the boardwalk, still with no specific destination in mind, and ended up in Terra Nova purely because it was nearest. The downstairs bar was busy with what looked like a coach party of Countryside Alliance protesters so they went upstairs. This was less crowded and they settled for a round table in the centre of the room.

"What'll you all have?" asked Jack. They had not socialised together before he had gone off with The Doctor. Since his return, however, he tried to get them out once or twice a month if the Rift was quiet. They needed the time to let off steam, to think and talk freely about anything they wanted, or they would all end up like Suzie Costello.

"I'll help you," volunteered Gwen when everyone had named their drink. She walked with Jack to the bar and was not surprised when he got instant service. She could stand there stark naked waving £50 notes and not be noticed as fast he was just by leaning an elbow nonchalantly on the bar. It wasn't fair. "Fancy something to eat?"

"Yeah, what have they got?" The menu had some enticing bar snacks and they ordered a selection. While waiting for the drinks, he asked, "Any more on the dead girl?"

"Nothing from Andy. Want me to ask him?"

"No, just curious. Longer this goes on, more chance the public will get restless, that's all."

"If I haven't heard before, I'll call him tomorrow." She went back to the table with a pint for Ianto and Toshiko's vodka tonic returning for her own gin and tonic.

Jack placed Owen's pint in front of him and sat down. "Cheers." He raised his glass of water.

"Cheers," joined in the others, clinking glasses.

"May the rest of the week be as quiet as today."

"I'll drink to that," agreed Owen.

"Me too. Did Owen tell you about the protesters we saw?" asked Toshiko. "They were done up as stags."

They settled in for a gossipy chat unaware that in just a few hours they would be in the middle of a nightmare.

* * *

><p><em>Matters start to hot up in the next chapter, in more ways than one ...<em>


	5. Chapter 4

_This chapter is rated **M** for some Janto action. The situation start unravelling ..._

* * *

><p><strong>Getting Even<strong>

Chapter Four

The man stood looking round curiously. His newly-recovered memories had led him here but nothing was familiar. The brightly-lit restaurants and bars, the open spaces, had not been here before. He stood in front of the imposing Wales Millennium Centre and let the people flow past him. Where were the back-to-back Victorian terraces and warehouses? And the docks, where had they gone?

He wandered on, wondering why he found it so hard to pass the beckoning bars. Professional drivers had to be careful and he controlled his drinking, never taking a chance and risking his livelihood. Suddenly alcohol had an appeal it never had before and he had to fight the urge to go in and down a few. Standing outside one bar, he took a leaflet from the stand and diverted himself by reading it. It was a map of the area which informed him that regeneration had obliterated the urban landscape he had so recently dredged up from his memory. He studied the road layout. Most of it was new but there was one area that drew his attention.

He could get in that way.

-ooOoo-

Detective Chief Inspector Antony (never Tony) Hewitt was furious. Instead of sitting with his wife listening to Bach's _Brandenburg Concertos _he was perched on the edge of an uncomfortable chair in a messy hotel bedroom. He glanced at his second in command, Inspector Timothy (call me Tim) Pugh, and the tall uniformed constable who had ruined his evening then back at Mr and Mrs Carpenter.

"Why didn't you tell us? It's important we know everything about Rebecca's background if we're to find her killer."

"No one asked." Carole Carpenter, a brittle blonde, fiddled with the belt of her dressing gown. She needed a cigarette but daren't ask to go downstairs for one, not when this policeman was looking at her so sternly. "John's had nothing to with Becky for years."

"But he is her father? Her biological father?"

"Yes." She seemed disinclined to say any more and looked imploringly at her husband.

"Carole and John were divorced in … '96?" Brian Carpenter, balding and with a paunch, waited for his wife's nod then continued. "Becky was seven at the time. When Carole and I got married, we changed her name by deed poll to mine. John agreed."

"Really?" Hewitt found it hard to believe any man would willingly allow his child to take another man's name. "And when was this?"

"I'm sorry?"

"When did you and Mrs Carpenter get married?"

"1997."

There was a long pause as the three policemen considered this information. Carole Carpenter had divorced one husband and married another within twelve months. Suggested she'd been playing away before the split. DCI Hewitt didn't see how it was relevant to the current murder investigation but it was a complication he could do without. Now they had to check on the whereabouts of the ex-husband at the time of the murder which would use up more of his scarce resources. Especially as the man himself had gone AWOL.

"It's not like you think!" spat out Carole. She had recognised the policemen's knowing looks. "Brian and I knew one another while I still married to John but we didn't get together until after the divorce. We didn't!"

"It's all right, Carole." Brian lay a calming hand on her arm. They were sitting on the bed facing the seated DCI and other policemen who stood beside and little behind him. They filled up the room which had seemed generously proportioned before. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you but we honestly didn't think it was relevant. We came down here to see Becky in hospital. John has shown no interest in her for over six years, we didn't even think of him. When she … when she died, we should probably have remembered but we were too upset to think."

That had the ring of truth and Hewitt sat back. Right now, the priority was to locate the man. He had disappeared from outside the police station. When tracked down, WPC Pam Jones had said that she had directed him to the shops in Working Street when he needed more cigarettes. As far as she knew, he was going to come straight back. This had been at the time of the demonstration so it was possible he had got caught up in that and delayed. But not by six hours. His mobile went straight to voice mail and he had not had a Cardiff address, coming straight to the station before finding a hotel. Glasgow police were checking his home address now on the remote possibility he had decided to return there.

"Why are you badgering us like this?" wailed Carole. "You should be out there looking for the man who killed my Becky!"

Inspector Pugh spoke for the first time. "We are, Mrs Carpenter. There are officers out checking leads and making enquiries as we speak. But this new information has to be considered –"

"You think John killed Becky?" interrupted Brian.

"Do you?"

"No." The answer was immediate and firm.

"He could be violent," put in Carole. "He got into plenty of fights over nothing when we were first married."

"With you?"

"No," she admitted reluctantly.

"He'd never hit a woman," added Brian. "He's a normal bloke who lashes out when he gets riled. But not without provocation and never with a woman. And I don't believe he'd ever hurt Becky. He loved her, in his way."

"I think you'd better tell us everything you know about him," said Hewitt. His hopes of attending the second half of the concert were vanishing fast. "Start with when you met, Mrs Carpenter."

Crammed between the wardrobe and the door, Andy Davidson sighed inwardly. He was already three hours past the end of his shift and it looked like it be would another few hours before he got home to his bed. He concentrated on making notes of the conversation.

-ooOoo-

Toshiko by-passed the main Hub entrances and walked round to the National Assembly Office to use the steps down to the secure car park. The others had already gone – their cars had been in the public car parks – but the evening was pleasant and she enjoyed being alone in the fresh air after the noisy and stuffy pub.

It had been a good night. After a couple of drinks, everyone had let their hair down and been just a bit indiscreet. Even Ianto had loosened up, chivvied along by Jack who needed nothing to relax him. She smiled remembering the convoluted way the pair of them had engineered leaving together. Why couldn't they just say they were going to Ianto's flat? They were ridiculous sometimes. The steps were wide and well-lit and she walked down them quickly, looking forward to a complete night's sleep. The Rift predictor was not registering activity until a faint possibility at midday tomorrow. Lost in these thoughts, she used her swipe card to open the door into the car park proper.

She was thrust through the door by a violent push in the middle of her back and she fell forward onto hands and knees. Her shoulder bag went flying one way and her laptop another. Before she could recover, strong hands gripped her arms and pulled them behind her back. A knee pressed hard on her back, forcing her face into the dirty concrete floor. Her arms were bound together at the elbow and she was pulled roughly upright.

"Not a sound," growled a man's voice in her ear. The glint of a large knife reinforced the order.

Toshiko's training went out of the window. All she could think about was Gwen's account of the recent murder of a young girl. She had been cut with a large knife. Was this the murderer? Was Toshiko to be his next victim?

-ooOoo-

"Hi, love. Good day?" asked Rhys.

"Grand. You?" Gwen threw off her jacket and dumped her bag before joining her fiancé on the sofa. "Give us a kiss."

"You're in a good mood."

"Make the most of it, it won't last. Another beer?" She jumped up and went to the kitchen.

"Please." He drained the bottle in his hand. "You in for good?"

"Uh-huh." She handed him a new bottle of beer and sat down before pouring wine into a glass. "Cheers."

"Cheers." They snuggled together in front of the television, happy to be together and anticipating a quiet night.

-ooOoo-

In another part of the city, Ianto gasped and groaned as Jack's stroked his cock and balls. The man had magic fingers that knew exactly how to arouse. The two men had barely got inside the flat before Jack had started his assault and five minutes later Ianto was putty, following wherever Jack took him. He wanted to take a more active role, to at least get into the lounge, but he was feeling so darned good he couldn't find time to get out the words.

"You are so sexy," growled Jack. He turned Ianto suddenly so he faced the wall and a finger slipped between butt cheeks and delved into Ianto's back passage.

"Argh!" Ianto strained to bend forward to allow the penetrating finger more room, but Jack held him upright.

"Patience, my little Welsh daffodil, patience." The finger probed delightfully and Jack grinned when it elicited more groans.

"Don't … call me … that," panted Ianto. Both hands were pressed against the hall wall and he struggled to keep his arms braced. Head hanging down, he could see trousers and underpants gathered round his ankles, a pair of pale legs and a fully erect cock with Jack's hand round it. He was still wearing his shirt and suit jacket, although they were rucked up.

Still fully-clothed, Jack pumped Ianto's cock with one hand while using the other to work a second finger in beside the first. It was a tighter fit and he adjusted his stance at the same time keeping Ianto pinned in place. "Now, what were you saying?"

Mind befuddled by this twin assault, Ianto could not think. Had he said something? The fingers were forced in further and his cock strained for release. Ianto ignored Jack's question to concentrate on relaxing his arse muscles. He had accommodated a lot more than fingers in the past few months but without lubrication these were uncomfortable. He tried bending a bit more but Jack stopped him.

"Not yet."

"Please!" begged Ianto.

"Please what?" Jack suddenly removed both hands.

Ianto's cock was cold as the air hit it and his arse felt suddenly empty. He wailed, "No! Don't stop!"

"Say the magic word." Jack rubbed some of the cum onto his fingers adding a dollop of spit. The lube was in the bedroom and he couldn't spare the time it would take to get it. He was sure Ianto couldn't wait either.

Ianto peered over his shoulder, looking for inspiration. What was it? What did Jack want him to say? Through a mind scrambled with desire, he remembered. "Sir! Please, sir!"

"Better."

Jack grasped Ianto's cock again and squeezed. The fingers were reinserted, going in further as they were slippery. Allowing Ianto to bend at the waist, Jack went with him when he fell to his knees, arse in the air. Ten minutes later, with Jack's cock in his arse, Ianto bellowed out his climax. Jack was just a minute or two behind.

-ooOoo-

It was as he remembered it, more or less.

The silver cover on the Rift manipulator was new, part of the tower he had seen earlier and which helped orientate him; the big open piazza and all the bars were directly above. The longing for a beer hit him again. Where was it coming from? And why now? He shook his head and concentrated on selecting the weapons. A Glock pistol and three extra magazines went into his jacket pockets. A smaller pistol, fully loaded, was pushed under his belt in the small of his back. Now for something powerful, something that would see off the coming Horde. There was plenty to chose from, some new but others familiar. He took three, confirming they were fully loaded or charged, and went to the raised work area. This part of the Hub was the same but the desks on the lower level had gone. He put the guns down and looked round. There were very few indications of occupation except for the flying dinosaur that had scared the shit out of him once already. Where did the rest of the team work?

It was a niggling inconsistency that troubled him but all in all he was glad they were not here now. He had his job to do, they had theirs. And he needed grenades and explosives which were kept a short way down the tunnel. He filled a rucksack with as much as would fit and slung it over his shoulder. Time was running out and he hurried back to the main level. The vanguard he had already seen were just a precursor of the terror to come, he had to get into position before the main force arrived. With one of the heavy weapons slung across his back and the other two over his shoulder he was preparing to leave when the dinosaur reappeared. It swooped on him, close enough to catch his shoulder a glancing blow with its beak. The man turned in one fluid movement and opened fire. The creature squawked loudly as energy grazed its wing and soared up into the dim heights. The man kept firing, spraying the area until he was sure it was not coming back.

He left, unaware he had severed a power cable to the lower levels.

* * *

><p><em>Oh my, what does the man want with all those weapons? Where's Tosh? Will Ianto recover? Find out in the next chapter ...<em>


	6. Chapter 5

**Getting Even**

Chapter Five

His city was sleeping, kept safe from attack by the constant vigilance and dedication of his team. Jack walked the quiet streets, hands in his greatcoat pockets. After a long time, a very long time, his life had turned a corner and the way ahead was sunny and inviting. He was where he wanted to be doing what he wanted to do, at least for the time being, with people he liked. Each team member brought something special to the group and after working without him for a while had gelled into a coherent whole, supporting one another. Jack had no problem giving credit for building the team to Gwen. She had done what he could not, not back then anyway. But now he knew his unnatural state was permanent – very permanent! – he was willing to invest more of his emotions in the here and now to continue what she had started.

The long, straight Lloyd George Avenue stretched before him but he strode out happily enough. The Hub was at one end, his home and place of work, and behind him at the other was the small flat containing a very special Welshman. Jack grinned, remembering Ianto all hot and bothered, running with sweat and groaning under him. So very different from the buttoned-up butler in a suit the rest of the team saw. It had been a wrench to leave him, sleeping like a baby under the rumpled duvet after the energetic sex, but it had to be done. The Rift may be quiet at present but there were still the resident aliens to keep an eye on. Running through the various species kept Jack's mind occupied until he reached Bute Street. The lights of Jubilee Pizza drew him.

"Sorry, mate, just closing," said the young man behind the counter.

"Only wanted a coffee. Any chance?" Jack rested his forearms on the counter and smiled winningly.

"There's a bit left. You can have that." The assistant poured the dark, aromatic coffee into a polystyrene cup. "Not quite a full one, sorry."

"That's okay. How much?"

"On the house. It was going to be chucked out anyway."

"Cheers."

Outside, Jack decided the Tourist Office was closest and took a side road into Mermaid Quay. He sipped the coffee as he walked; Ianto's was much superior but this was hot and met his immediate need. He stopped by the water, leaning on the railing, and finished the coffee. The lights of the Barrage across the Bay drew his attention and he watched the small dark figures moving around over there before easing upright and chucking his cup in a handy bin. Time for work.

-ooOoo-

When the lights dimmed then went out, the Krittenack sat very still. Straining his human ears, he listened intently. Was this a prelude to attack? Was Jack Harkness going to get rid of him for good? Minutes passed and nothing happened. No footsteps outside the cell. No shadows moving in the darkness.

A faint glow penetrated the cell and the Krittenack stood up and moved cautiously to the door. He rested his head against it and then jumped back. The door had moved. Reaching out a hand, he pushed and the door opened. In a moment he was through. Perhaps this was a trap but then again perhaps it wasn't. Whichever, he had to take the chance offered to escape. He moved past the other two cells - both empty – to the outer door. It opened too and he peered through a crack into the corridor beyond. Some of the lights out here had gone off as well, those leading further into the base. The other way, the way he had been brought down here, had lights about twenty metres away. A power cut?

Shuffling to get a better look, he bumped into a table and something on it wobbled. He put out both hands to stop the thing falling; no need to make a noise and draw attention to himself. Then he realised what he was holding: the emitter, the one stopping him changing shape. Harkness had made a point of telling him about it, relishing in his superiority. Hope sprang in his chest and he opened the door again to let in sufficient light to check the machine. It was inert, it had lost power too. With a half-stifled cry he blazed back into his natural form – and hit his head on the ceiling. He wasn't going to get out of here as himself - he just didn't fit human architecture - so quickly changed into human form again. Not the one he had assumed so many boring hours ago, a new one, one more fitting to this place. And one that would help him if this was a trap.

Slowly he edged out into the corridor and made for the upper levels.

-ooOoo-

The hair on the back of Jack's neck rose as he stepped through the cog door. Something wasn't right. He had worked and lived in this place for over a century – on and off – and he knew it inside out and upside down. He had known it full of people and empty, light and dark, happy and sad, welcoming and threatening. Drawing his Webley from the holster at his waist, he stepped forward silently. What had alerted him?

His gaze travelled around, scanning all sides until he came to the armoury and stopped. It took a moment but then he realised what was wrong; the defabricator gun and a Newok mega blaster were not in their usual places. The gap in the glass wall looked enormous. Who had removed them? Was he still here? A soft groan from above made him spin round. Someone was in the work area. Gun held in a double-handed grip in front of him, he took the steps two at a time and stopped in surprise and alarm. Toshiko was laid on the couch, hands and feet bound and with a gag in her mouth. He checked all around, peering into the medical bay and the office before going to her side. She was coming round. He pushed down the gag and made sure her airway was clear before going to the monitors. It took only a moment to discover the power outtage in part of the lower levels and to see the heat signature of someone moving along a corridor.

"Jack?" Toshiko's voice was weak. She coughed and spat out fibres that had got stuck in her mouth from the gag.

He faced her and put a finger to his lips. Crossing, he checked her bonds and unbuckled the belt that pinned her arms. The duct tape on her ankles would take longer to remove so he left it. He lowered her legs so she could sit up.

"What happened?" he whispered.

"Attacked outside. Made to open door. Sorry." Tears of shock and relief rolled down her cheeks.

He gave her a brief hug. "Who?"

"Never seen him before. Older. He knocked me out." She rubbed the swollen lump on her jaw. "Why?"

"Guns have gone. I think he's downstairs. Get Owen in while I go and look." He pressed his mobile into her hands. The doctor was needed to check out Toshiko, they could decide later if Gwen and Ianto were also required.

"Be careful." She watched him stride down past the water tower and disappear through the far archway. The mobile was open and ringing as she hopped to her desk.

-ooOoo-

The lights were on on this level so Jack was able to make rapid progress down the corridor. The heat signature had been on the next level down but moving this way. If whoever it was took the quickest route up they would use the next flight of steps on the right. Pressed against the wall, Jack slowed his breathing as much as possible, and listened hard. He made out cautious footsteps heading up. They came closer and closer. A figure appeared at the head of the steps, looked both ways then padded towards Jack.

"Stop right there," he ordered, stepping into the centre of the corridor. The Webley was trained on the man.

"Jack, thank god it's you. Lights went out when I was downstairs. What the hell's going on?" Owen closed the gap between them.

"Owen? What are you doing here?"

The Londoner shrugged and thrust hands into jeans pockets. "You know me, don't like to leave things half-done." He was close now, very close. Just another couple of seconds …

"You may not, but Owen couldn't care less. Nice try." The Webley had never wavered and was still trained on the Krittenack's head even though it was Owen's face that looked back. "Turn round."

"Jack, it's me!"

Jack stared back impassively. "I said, turn round."

Owen's mouth quirked up at the corners. "Knew I shouldn't have improvised. But I don't think you'll put me back in a cell. Not now."

"Oh yes, I will."

"Say goodbye to reason, Jack." In an flash of blue light, the Krittenack assumed its natural form.

Jack squinted against the glare but refused to deviate from his course; he had a few seconds only. He fired twice at the ten feet tall, tri-pedal, vaguely humanoid creature that filled the corridor. One bullet tore through an upper appendage, the other missed and ricocheted off into the distance. A roar of pain and the Krittenack knocked the gun out of Jack's hand and grabbed him by the neck. Lifted off his feet, Jack tried to resist the mental bombardment that had destroyed two people's sanity already. He lasted longer than they had but ultimately was overcome.

Dropping Jack on the ground, the Krittenack took a moment to gloat over his victim. Humans were weak and puny, even this one. The mighty Jack Harkness had been reduced to a mindless husk staring at nothing and drooling. The Krittenack would have liked to stay but he had to get out before anyone else found him. Ducking, he continued along the corridor and came out into the main level of the Hub. Here he could stand upright and extend his appendages fully. It felt glorious, even with the pain from the gunshot. After several indulgent moments, he crossed to the open cog door and walked through as Owen Harper.

-ooOoo-

The man selected his place with care. He needed a wide arc of fire if he was going to stop the Horde so had gone up high. Luckily Cardiff had many high places, most of them ridiculously easy to access. This one commanded a view of two wide, straight streets either of which would keep the Horde bunched together thus increasing his chances of stopping them. The corner he chose had a three foot high parapet on both sides and was shielded by the lift housing should anyone be foolish enough to approach. It would do very well.

He left most of the weapons and the rucksack in a shadowy corner and returned to ground level. It could be hours before the Horde arrived and he needed food and water and a few other things. He headed for the bright lights of Tesco Express.

-ooOoo-

It was a mess, one god-awful mess. Running into the base, Glock in hand, Owen had found Toshiko catatonic and Jack drooling. He had no hesitation in calling in Gwen and Ianto who arrived together a bare ten minutes later.

"Owen, report," ordered Gwen, running up the steps to the work area.

"We're in the shit. Big time!"

"I got that already. A few more specifics would be helpful." She crouched down in front of Toshiko who was sitting on the couch staring straight ahead. "How are you, sweetheart?"

Ianto had other concerns. "Where's Jack?"

Owen nodded towards the medical bay not trusting himself to speak. Ianto strode off as Owen turned back to Toshiko; he could help her.

"Tosh, love?" Gwen crooned, pushing back Toshiko's hair. No reply. "Has she said anything?"

"No. Jeez, Gwen, this is bloody serious."

"Tell me what you know. No, before that. Is the Hub secure?" She left Toshiko and crossed to one of the desks.

Owen joined her. "Far as I can make it short of going into lockdown. There was a power cut on level two that included block three of the cells and that energy blocker thing. The Krittenack got out."

"And she saw it?" Gwen was looking again at Toshiko.

"I don't think so. She's in deep shock." He paused. "But Jack did."

The two stared at one another, Gwen's expression becoming one of horror as the full implications of that statement hit her. Jack was human. The Krittenack in its natural form caused madness in humans. Ergo, Jack was mad. Reluctantly and very slowly, she walked to the medical bay, Owen one pace behind her. Standing at the railing, she looked down into the tiled room. Her knees went weak suddenly and she had to grip the metal bar to stop herself falling.

Jack lay propped up on the examination table, eyes open and staring around. His chest rose and fell regularly and his body was undamaged. What horrified Gwen was the expression on his face, or lack of it. The usually keen eyes were unfocussed and rolled around in their sockets aimlessly. His mouth was slightly parted, lower lip hanging loosely with a dribble of saliva forming at the corner. Everything that was Jack Harkness had disappeared except this shell.

At his boss's side, Ianto gently wiped away the saliva. "It'll be all right, Jack. Don't worry. We'll look after you until you're better." He stared up at his colleagues, daring them to disagree with him.

* * *

><p><em>How will the team cope? Will Tosh get better? Will Jack? Read the next chapter to find out ...<em>


	7. Chapter 6

_The team is try to make sense of things ..._

* * *

><p><strong>Getting Even<strong>

Chapter Six

Gwen arrived in the boardroom first and selected a seat with unprecedented care. Sitting in the middle of the long side of the table put her at right angles to the plasma screen which meant she didn't have it in view all the time. If she was to get the team through this, she had to block out everything that could divert her attention. She was ordering her papers when her mobile rang: Rhys. Should she take it?

"Hey, love. Sorry, not got much time," she said as soon as the connection was made.

"_Just wanted to check you were okay. Emergency sorted?"_ He was in the car on his way to work and concerned for Gwen who had shot out of bed like a scalded cat at three that morning.

"Yeah. Well, under control anyway." She looked round when Owen and Toshiko entered. "Gotta go. See you later, sweetheart. Bye." She ended the call and jumped up. "Let me help you, Tosh."

"I can manage." Moving with exaggerated care, Toshiko sank into the nearest chair, Gwen hovering over her.

"You should be at home, resting," said Owen. He put bottles of beer on the table and sat next to Toshiko. His experience with Torchwood had expanded his medical knowledge a hundred-fold but he was the first to admit that mental illness and neurological problems were still a weakness.

Gwen retook her seat. "Beer for breakfast?" Owen had opened a bottle and was drinking thirstily.

"Coffee boy's got better things to do." His eyes flicked to the screen which showed the medical bay where Ianto sat beside the examination table on which lay Jack. He looked away again wishing he'd chosen another seat. "Let's get on with this."

"Right. Ianto, can you hear us?" Gwen steeled herself to look at the screen.

"_Yes." _His voice was loud and had an echo, probably because of all the tiles in the medical bay.

"Good. I'll just run through what we know then we can decide what we do next." She gratefully turned back to her notes.

"Pray?" suggested Owen.

She ignored him. "Chip in if I miss anything, Tosh. Okay. When Tosh left the bar last night she was attacked in the car park by an older man and forced to let him into the base. She was tied up and knocked out. According to the CCTV, the man went downstairs a couple of times and into the armoury leaving with a number of weapons."

"He knew the Hub," put in Toshiko. Her voice sounded dredged up from a deep place within her. Still in shock from the initial attack, her mind had shut down in the face of another, potentially much more serious, assault. At the first intimation the Krittenack was heading her way, she had curled in a ball under the desk and closed her eyes tight with her jumper pulled over her head. Owen had found her there, unable to move or speak. A shot of lorazepam had brought her back to awareness but she was still well below par. "He knew where to go, how the locks worked."

"Probably worked here then. Let's hope the computer can clean up that CCTV image and give us a match." For most of the time he had kept his face averted from the cameras, but there was one clearish shot. "We need to find him and those weapons fast. Did he say anything, Tosh, anything about what he was going to do?"

"No. I … I don't think so." She was confused and anxious, her normal recall of facts beyond her current capabilities.

"Don't strain to remember, Tosh," warned Owen. He rubbed her back soothingly. "Like I said, take it easy." He glared at Gwen. "I told you not to press her."

"I wasn't, I just asked."

"Well, don't."

There was a moment's silence as Gwen struggled to keep her temper. How were they going to find this man – and the Krittenack – when Toshiko was traumatised and Jack ... indisposed before he did something catastrophic? Her notes included details of the weapons taken. The AK47 was bad enough but the others could take out the side of a house; human flesh stood no chance. With that kind of firepower and the grenades the man could hold Cardiff to ransom. What was he planning?

She cleared her throat and continued. "Before the bloke left, Myfanwy attacked him and in seeing her off he sprayed the base and cut off power to the lower levels. Part of them. The Krittenack got loose and … attacked Jack. What's his status, Owen?"

"Mad. Like the others, the ones in Providence Park. The Krittenack fried the neutraltransmitters in his brain. He's a –"

"_He's sick,"_ stated Ianto loudly. _"He's sick and is going to get better."_ He stared straight at the CCTV camera.

Owen shrugged and Gwen sighed. It was clear that Ianto was not going to give up hope any time soon. Jack needed someone fighting his corner but it meant the team was yet another member down as Ianto was not going to leave their boss's side.

"How does his not dying thing affect this?" asked Gwen. "We know his body mends, what about his brain?"

"I have absolutely no fucking idea," replied Owen. "He recovered from Abaddon, maybe he can recover from this. I don't know."

"That took three days." She had spent a large proportion of them by his side, waiting and hoping for a miracle which had finally come. "So it could take that long again?"

"Didn't you hear me! I said, I – don't – know." Owen's frustration was evident.

"_However long it takes, we do not give up on him,"_ asserted Ianto. He had deferred to Gwen after Abaddon but not this time. He was closer to Jack than any of the others and that gave him the right to determine what happened.

"Okay, Ianto, okay. We're not pulling the plug or anything," said Gwen quickly. "Although … would he recover quicker if we … killed him?" She looked across at Owen then at Toshiko and finally Ianto. "I'm not advocating it, just wondering."

"It's possible," admitted Owen eventually. "But we're a long way from making that decision."

-ooOoo-

Nothing went right for Andy Davidson that morning until he arrived at Tesco's.

He had finally got to bed around midnight, the bollocking by Inspector Pugh still a vivid memory. The murder investigation was going nowhere, he needed someone to blame and Andy was the obvious choice. After tossing and turning for hours, Andy had dropped off an hour before his alarm had sounded at six. Hoping for a few extra minutes, he had turned over and woken over an hour later. Late for his shift, he had been bawled out by the inspector yet again and handed over to the desk sergeant.

After a second telling-off, he had been sent to follow up a report from one of the city centre Tesco supermarkets of a suspicious man. It was a footling job that would normally have gone to a cadet or PCSO but Andy accepted it and got out of the station as fast as he could. He hadn't been officially removed from the murder team, not yet, and a bit of distance might hasten his return. Entering the store, he was immediately taken to the manager.

"Come in, Officer, come in. Sorry for the mess." The manager was a short, stocky man in his thirties. The office was cramped and already held a sullen young woman.

"That's all right, sir. Now, what's this all about? Seen a terrorist, that right?" It was a preposterous idea but every call had to be taken seriously – or be seen to be by the public.

"I'm not sure about that, not sure at all, but Head Office insists we pass on anything of this kind to the police. Absolutely insist on it." The manager smiled sheepishly, already regretting following the rule. "I'm Mike Hughes by the way, Branch Manager." He held out his hand.

Juggling his notebook and pen, Andy shook the hand. "Constable Davidson. Now, what happened?" He looked pointedly at the young woman who had not been introduced. Was she here for a reason? If not, he wanted her gone.

"Oh, sorry, this is Elizabeth Jones, one of our cashiers. It was her that saw him and raised the alarm."

"Liz," said the woman. "It's Liz. All this fuss, starting to wish I hadn't bothered." She sat with her arms crossed and glared at both of them. "This gonna take long? I want my bed."

The manager attempted to pour oil on troubled waters. "Liz is on the night shift, finishes at seven. That's when she came to me with her story."

"It's not a story! It happened."

"What did?" demanded Andy.

"This bloke. He came in at three thirty or thereabouts and filled a trolley. I was the only cashier, don't get many people at that time, and so I served him. He had some really weird stuff." She was interested now. Possibly as she was the centre of the attention or maybe because she really did think it worth reporting.

"What exactly?"

"Tins of food. Bottles and bottles of water and cans of beer. Torch and batteries. Lots of batteries, enough to see him through to Christmas! Eight of the car blankets that are on offer. Couple of washing lines. A knife, a big one. Shoe polish and three packs of sanitary towels. The ones with wings." She sat back watching Andy closely.

Andy wrote this down, taking a moment to think. "And what made you think he was a terrorist?"

"What he bought, and the way he looked. All furtive like and … starey eyes, like you see on the telly. And what bloke buys sanitary towels!"

"I see. This was three thirty this morning and yet you didn't 'phone the station until seven thirty." Andy looked from Liz to Hughes. "Why the delay?"

"I come on duty at seven," explained Mike Hughes. "During the handover, Liz mentioned what she'd seen and we took a look at the security tapes. He does look suspicious so I called. Like I said, it's policy."

"I'd like to see that tape."

"It's all set up. Take my seat." They exchanged places, shuffling around the desk which took up most of the room. Hughes pressed the play button. The recording was surprisingly clear and gave a good view of the store from a camera set high on the side wall. "That's him," said Hughes, pointing to the back view of a figure. "You get to see his face later."

Still watching, Andy asked, "Any chance he paid by card?"

"It was cash," put in Liz Jones. "That's another reason I thought he was funny. It all came to close on a hundred pounds."

Andy did not hear her. He had got his first glimpse of the man's face, it was one he knew.

-ooOoo-

The Hub was deathly quiet. Toshiko lay sleeping on the couch. She had functioned sufficiently to double check the security of the base and set up a sweep of the city for traces of the ploinine energy before tiredness overcame her. Owen was with Jack, running tests that would only confirm what they already knew; his brain synapses had been fried leaving him a vegetable. He retained control of his bodily functions, including breathing, but he didn't react to visual or aural stimuli. Gwen was walking through the lower levels checking all was secure. She had a Glock in her hand and an open comm link but was still relieved when she could retrace her steps and return to the others. She joined Ianto at the coffee machine.

"How are you holding up?" she asked quietly.

"I'm okay. Whatever you say, I'm staying with Jack." He met her gaze steadily. No one seeing his calm, business-like demeanour would have realised the emotional strain he was under.

"That's what I want you to do."

They walked to the work area with the coffees. Gwen took one to Owen as Ianto sat at Toshiko's desk. He sipped the strong brew and watched as the facial recognition program did its work. Frowning, he put aside his mug and tapped in a new instruction.

"What are you doing?" asked Gwen, leaning over his shoulder.

"If he worked here it must have been some time ago. He'll have aged since then -"

"- so you're extrapolating from the photo what he looked like as a younger man. Good thinking." Seconds later they got a match.

"John Graham Wallswell, known as Wally," read Ianto. "Worked for Torchwood Three between 1980 and 1982. Ex-Army, only specialist skill noted is marksman."

"He'd know what to do with weapons. What does this mean? 'Released, 1982'."

"They got rid of him." Ianto flicked through more screens and brought up Wallswell's full personnel file. "Yes, as I thought. He was taken out of Cardiff and given Retcon."

Gwen was reading the entry too. "By Jack presumably. So he got rid of him." She straightened up.

"No. Jack wasn't in charge then a … Karen Wriggler was."

Gwen was not listening. Wallswell had been given Retcon and left to fend for himself with missing memories. What a caring employer Torchwood was! But now, twenty six years later, this man had returned to Cardiff, found a way into the Hub and removed heavy duty weapons. Why? "I'm going out, need to think."

"Okay. Bring back something to eat, doughnuts or something." Ianto stood and, taking his coffee, went into the medical bay.

-ooOoo-

Andy came out of Tesco as Gwen went in. Both were in a hurry and exchanged only brief greetings. If they had taken a moment to compare notes they would have saved a lot of trouble for themselves and a dozen families from mourning dead loved ones.

* * *

><p><em>Please forgive me if the description of Jack's condition does not stand scrutiny, I didn't want to make it too clinical. And so it was Wallswell who took the weapons. Where is he and what's he doing? Find out in the next chapter ...<em>

_PS: did you get a story alert on the last chapter? I didn't and I'm wondering if it was just me or FF generally._


	8. Chapter 7

_It seems some but not all of us suffered from missing alerts. I hope they are working properly now. But back to the story. How are the team coping?_

* * *

><p><strong>Getting Even<strong>

Chapter Seven

High up on the shop roof, John (Wally) Wallswell opened another can of beer. The early morning was as bright and sunny as its predecessors but this corner was still in shadow and he needed the alcohol to keep him warm. Or that's what he told himself. Besides, he liked it, liked it very much. He sipped some more.

He had not started on the beer until after setting up his nest. It was neat and tidy with everything to hand, just as he'd been taught in the Army. Pushed right into the corner was one of the blankets, held rigid by the (empty) cardboard beer cartons, on which rested the butt of the Defabricator gun. Its muzzle leant against the top of the parapet which was padded for four feet in each direction with the sanitary towels to eliminate noise and friction. He had rubbed polish on the towels so their whiteness would not stand out and be seen from below. Some polish had also gone on his face for the same reason. The Jizm'll had acute eyesight, that's what Karen had said, and he didn't want to give them a target. Wally reached out and minutely adjusted the position of the Newok blaster lying with the loaded Glock on another blanket alongside him. Spare ammunition and grenades were stacked neatly on his other side. Two beer cans stood there also. Empty of their original contents, they now held chemicals laboriously obtained from the batteries and mixed with water ready to recharge the energy weapons.

Looking at it all, he considered himself ready to do his duty. Defend the city against the Jizm'll Horde, that's what Karen had said when she gave them their final orders. Barry and Sandy had been standing with him, weapons at their feet, and Clarrie was just in front. The others were spread around the Hub. The images blurred as older memories were overlaid by more recent ones. He shook his head. What did it matter if the Hub had looked different last night, he still had a job to do. Finishing the can, he placed it in line by the other empties and reached for another.

-ooOoo-

It felt like the calm before the storm except that the storm had already passed. Sitting idly at his desk Owen stared at his screen saver, watching the flying icons appear and disappear. He had things he should be doing but couldn't recall what they were. Toshiko was still sleeping, her best cure, and Ianto was with Jack. Owen didn't know how he could bear to stay with him. Their boss had started to drool constantly. His limbs jerked too, flying up and out violently with no warning. He'd caught Ianto twice before Owen had insisted on using the restraints. As a doctor, Owen could cope with all that – just – it was the incoherent noises that had driven him out. He straightened as he remembered why he had come to the desk; he was looking at the medical records of the people who had also been affected by the Krittenack. Perhaps their doctors had found something that could help Jack.

Pressing 'return' the screen saver disappeared and the medical report reappeared. He'd been half way through it before losing interest. Jack was different from these patients. He had lost his mind - no, had it taken from him - like them but in every other respect he was different. Sooner or later they'd have to try killing him and see what happened. Maybe it would reset the default values in his head like it did his body. If it didn't, Jack would have to spend the rest of eternity as a vegetable.

"Shit!" Owen threw a stress ball into the wall of the office then another and another, each punctuated with, "Shit!"

"What are you doing?" Ianto stood at the medical bay entrance.

"Letting go of my frustrations. It was those things or bullets." He leant back, chair at a dangerous angle, and rubbed his face with both hands. He felt the air stir as Ianto passed him.

"No bullets, please." Ianto placed the retrieved balls on Owen's desk. "Don't want to wake Tosh."

Owen looked up at Ianto. "I'm a lousy bloody doctor."

"You're doing everything you can, I know that."

"But Jack needs someone better than me, a real –" Owen broke off as an idea, a crazy idea, occurred to him.

"What?"

Owen grinned. "He needs a specialist in him. His doctor, that one he ran off with."

"He didn't do Jack any good."

"Maybe not with the undying stuff but this … He could be just what we want." Owen looked across as the door alarms sounded and Gwen climbed the steps. "Hey, Gwen, just had an amazing idea. Why don't we call in this doctor bloke of Jack's?"

Taking off her jacket, Gwen frowned at the pair of them. "Can we do that? Would he be able to help?"

"Didn't either of you read your memos! You do know who The Doctor is, don't you?" Ianto looked from one to the other and threw up his hands. "He's a Time Lord. An alien. Or 'traitorous malcontent' according to the Torchwood Charter. It's because of him the Torchwood Institute was set up. To catch him."

"Sounds like just the man we need," said Owen, still pleased with himself.

"How do we get hold of him?" asked Gwen, joining them.

Ianto was incredulous. "You two are unbelievable."

"Why? It's better than sitting on our arses doing nothing." Owen was facing his desk again, reaching for the keyboard. "What's his name again?"

"The Doctor."

"Doctor who?" Hands poised over the keyboard, Owen looked up.

"Just The Doctor. And you won't find him in there." He had seen Owen had opened the Torchwood directory. "Or in the aliens database. The man, and I use the term loosely, flies round the universe in a 1960s police telephone box and –"

"Telephone box? Bound to have a 'phone then. Don't know why you're making such a fuss." Owen keyed in the name and pressed 'return'.

"I give up. If you think you can just ring up one of the most powerful beings in the universe, someone who could be anywhere in time and space, you're madder than Jack!" Ianto gulped when he realised what he had said. He hadn't allowed himself to admit that Jack had lost his mind and now he had said it out loud. Turning swiftly, he headed back into the medical bay.

"Ianto …" Gwen held out a hand to stop him but didn't pursue him when he brushed past. "I'm going to get a drink, want one?" she asked Owen.

"Yeah, ta." He didn't take his eyes from the screen.

After getting some bottled water, Gwen handed them round with the doughnuts she had bought in Tesco. Ianto was holding Jack's hand and barely acknowledged her, Owen was frantically pursuing his search. She took her own drink and doughnut to her desk and brought up the personnel file of John Graham Wallswell. She sat drinking and eating as she read all she could about the man.

-ooOoo-

"I don't know why they thought he was suspicious but at least we know he's not a figment of your imagination, Constable." DCI Hewitt glanced up at Andy Davidson. "Any clue where he is now?"

"I've got the tapes of the outside CCTV cameras, sir. If someone can check them –"

"Excellent idea. Get on with that, find out where he goes when he leaves the supermarket."

Andy's heart sank. Much as he wanted to be back on the enquiry, he did not want to sit looking through hours of CCTV tapes. Nevertheless, he said, "Yes, sir."

"Not that it's going to bring us any nearer finding his daughter's killer. We're sure he was out the country at the time?" The question was addressed to Inspector Pugh, the other person in the office.

"On the ferry from Calais. Border Agency confirms the lorry came across and they're double checking their CCTV as we speak. All the cameras around the ports, no one can miss being seen."

"Makes our job a bit easier, I suppose. Pity there was none in that underpass." DCI Hewitt shuffled the papers on his desk. "Better talk to the parents again about an appeal. And –" He looked at Andy. "You waiting for something?"

"No, sir. Sorry, sir."

Making a hasty exit, Andy commandeered a desk in the large incident room. With a cup of sludgy coffee and a Penguin, he made himself as comfortable as he could and loaded the first – of many – discs into the DVD slot.

-ooOoo-

The water was hot and she stood under it a long time, washing away the horror of the last few hours along with the grime. She had been carried by the team and it was time she started pulling her weight. With a sigh, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. As she dried herself and dressed, Toshiko went over all she knew about what had happened since their night out. It had been a good evening, mainly because Jack was on such good form. She couldn't believe he would never again be animated and lively, telling his outrageous stories and checking out all the men and women in the bar. With a shudder, she realised she could have ended up like that too. Only the faint sound of gunfire and unnatural light had warned her. She was still ashamed of hiding like a child but it had saved her sanity.

She wondered how Owen and Gwen were getting on. He had given up on his attempts to find this Doctor and was now closeted with Gwen in the boardroom. They were going through all they could find on John Graham Wallswell and the Torchwood team at the time he was an operative looking for a clue about why he had suddenly come back to the base. More importantly, it might give them a lead on where he was right now and what he intended to do with the stolen weapons. Toshiko could not do anything to help them so she resolved to find the Krittenack. The scan for ploinine energy had to be speeded up.

Back in the work area, she hesitated then went into the medical bay. The sight of Jack distressed her, like it distressed the rest of them, but she felt obliged to check on him and Ianto. "Any change?" she asked, standing at the head of the steps.

"He's a bit quieter. That's a nasty bruise." The side of her jaw was noticeably swollen and a deep purple.

She went down the steps. Jack lay on the examination table, wrists and ankles in loose restraints and a broad belt fastened more tightly round his waist. These stopped him lashing out and prevented him falling. His head was held at an unusual angle with his chin tilted up and jerked spasmodically, making the rolling eyes and open mouth with seemingly oversized tongue even more disturbing. As she neared the table, he made animal-like grunts and groans.

"Shhh, Jack, it's only Tosh come to see you." Ianto stroked Jack's hair and the grunts reduced in volume.

"I'm going to find him, Jack." She forced herself to look directly into his eyes. "I'm going to find the Krittenack. He'll pay for what he did to you."

"He's mine. I have plans for him."

Toshiko looked at Ianto in surprise. Gone was his usual impassive expression. He looked as fierce as his words and tone suggested. She didn't fancy the Krittenack's chances when Ianto got hold of him. Unable to think of anything to say, she nodded instead.

The Rift alarm sounded and she seized the chance to escape. After checking the readouts, she raised the boardroom. "Gwen, there's a Rift opening at Grangetown. Small one but I think someone should check it out."

"Owen and I'll go. We'll be up in a minute."

Gathering the information together, Toshiko transferred details of location etc onto a PDA and had it ready when her colleagues appeared. They went off shortly after, both keen to get out the Hub for a while on business they understood and knew how to deal with.

Keeping an eye on them in case they needed backup, Toshiko turned her attention to the ploinine scan. It wasn't strong enough to cover the whole city in one sweep which meant it could easily miss a moving object. She had no doubt the Krittenack was on the move; he had to know the team would be looking for him. Perhaps he might also try to hide. Where? She became absorbed in the task, blocking out everything else.

In the medical bay, Ianto sat holding Jack's hand. A little over twelve hours ago, these fingers had been exploring Ianto's body and giving immense pleasure. Now they alternated between being rigid and limp, totally useless to their owner. Leaning forward, Ianto rested his forehead against the hand and closed his eyes.

"You'll get better, Jack. Somehow we'll find a way. I promise, Jack, I promise. I won't give up on you." A tear escaped one eye. "We're all working on it. Gwen, Owen and Tosh, they're working so hard. I'm the only one shirking, staying in here with you when I should be doing my job. But you always have that effect on me, don't you? Distracting me when I should be busy. Doesn't matter where I am, does it, you always find me. And with only one thing on your mind too." Another tear escaped. "Sexual harassment of the first order, that's what it is. I know I always complain but … I miss it. When you're better, I promise you can have me wherever you like, whenever you like. There, if you're listening to this, that should bring you back."

He waited but there was no response. He hadn't expected one but that didn't stop him being disappointed. With a sigh, he released Jack's hand and wiped the drool from his chin.

* * *

><p><em>In the next chapter, Wally takes action ...<em>


	9. Chapter 8

**Getting Even**

Chapter Eight

The incident room was hot. The afternoon sun blazed down which added to the heat generated by a dozen bodies and computers. The temperature inside rose a few degrees every hour. March in Wales was not supposed to be this warm so the central heating was still pumping out hot air and the windows were sealed and couldn't be opened. Everyone was feeling the effects, either drowsing or getting tetchy as they made no progress with the murder enquiry. Sitting in the middle of the room, Andy was getting nowhere with the blurry images on the screen. He felt his eyelids close. His head drooped and almost touched the keyboard before he jerked back. He needed air.

Standing outside the station he took in several lungfuls of fresh air. It was a lovely Saturday. The tourists were out in force, crowding into the nearby National Museum of Wales, students from the university were wandering about, drawn from their studies – exams were looming - into the park either to read or, like Andy, to get a breath of fresh air before going back to their laptops and PCs. He was about to go back himself when his radio squawked into life.

"_Message from a Mike Hughes of Tesco,"_ said the controller. _"Says the man is back."_

"Right! He still on the line?"

"_Yes. This better not be code for your shopping being ready." _

"Ha-ha. This is serious. Tell him I'm on my way. Oh, and tell Inspector Pugh Wallswell's turned up again."

Andy glanced at the police vehicles but decided against using one. It would take longer to get round the one way system and park than it would to walk. He set off at a brisk pace, threading through the people and stopping traffic to cross roads when the lights were against him. He was outside the Tesco Express fourteen minutes after receiving the call. Everything looked normal for a Saturday afternoon. Shoppers of all ages mingled with tourists, some moving briskly others strolling or standing around in groups. In front of the church a temporary stand had been erected by the Countryside Alliance as part of their continuing protest. Behind a wobbly table covered in leaflets, a board displayed large posters of bucolic scenes designed to attract sympathy to the cause. They appeared to be working. A number of people were crowded round listening to a woman proclaiming the dangers to the rural way of life and signing the petition. The shops were busy, including Tesco where shoppers were going in and out of the automatic doors so regularly they were almost continually open.

The manager appeared and looked up and down the street. His face lit up when he saw Andy and he hurried over. "Quick! He's at checkout three. I thought he'd get away before you arrived." Hughes tugged on Andy's arm to get him moving.

"Hold on." Andy pulled his arm free. "Tell me what happened first."

"But he'll get away!"

"Better to stop him out here. We don't want a panic in the shop. Now, what happened?"

Hughes glanced anxiously at the store then back at Andy. "I was coming back from lunch, had it late today, and saw him in aisle one. Must have only just come in. I called you straight away."

"And he's buying more stuff?"

"Umm." Another glance at the store. "Drink mainly and some food. I followed him round the aisles."

"That wasn't very clever, sir. Better to leave this to the professionals." Andy was also watching the store. He intended to approach the man casually. Wallswell had walked away from the station without explanation and it was natural that Andy would want to know why.

"I'm sure he didn't spot me." Hughes was keen to impress. He had reported the earlier incident to Head Office who had commended his vigilance. If he could be present at the arrest, he could give them a first-hand account and gain yet more kudos. "There he is!" The manager spoke loudly and pointed.

With a silent curse, Andy stepped forward. Hughes had attracted Wallswell's attention despite the flurry of activity around the protesters' stand where people in costume had joined the throng. Andy would always remember the subsequent events as unfolding in slow motion. Wallswell standing stock still, his gaze going from Andy and Hughes – who was sticking close – to the protesters just to their left. A mother and child walking in front of Wallswell. When they had gone, he was holding a black object in his hand which he raised. Andy feeling his blood run cold as he recognised the gun. Shouting the man's name and running forward, fumbling with his radio for help. The crack of a shot. Screaming people fleeing every which way. A desperate lunge to take Wallswell down. Another shot very close, very loud.

Falling.

Pain.

-ooOoo-

They ate in the boardroom. Jack was sleeping and Gwen had persuaded Ianto to join them for the Chinese. He sat beside her, quiet but part of the group. She smiled when he looked up.

"What?" His chopsticks stopped in mid-air.

"Nothing! Can't I smile at you?"

"Women smiling means they want something," put in Owen. He was shovelling in food as if he hadn't eaten for a week.

"Since when?"

"Since time immemorial."

Ianto returned to his food but kept a wary eye on Gwen. She had gone back to her food and didn't smile in his direction again. His gaze took in the rest of the room. He wrinkled his nose at the mess Owen was making; he'd have to get the vacuum cleaner out when they were done. Toshiko was eating slowly with one hand, the other tapping at a laptop. She was reviewing all the information they had gathered on Wallswell and the Krittenack. That was the main reason they had come down here, to go over it all again and formulate a plan of action. Ianto's gaze settled on the head of the table and the big gap where Jack should have been. He'd have been making as much mess as Owen, more probably, and talking. Jack was always talking, ready with a story to amaze, disgust or amuse. All three sometimes. Ianto missed him and gazed at the plasma screen which showed the medical bay. Jack's body was there, still except for occasional involuntary twitching, but the essence of the man was missing. Would it ever return? Would there ever be any more stories?

"Eat up, Ianto," said Gwen quietly. "Got to keep your strength up."

"She's right. Anyone want this?" Owen waved a carton in the air. "No? Good." He emptied the contents on his plate.

Averting her eyes, Gwen asked, "Found anything, Tosh?"

"Not yet. The Torchwood team back in the eighties was huge. Twelve people plus a few specialists who were called in when needed. What did they all do?"

"Got more days off than us," grouched Owen.

"It was unusual," put in Ianto. "There were a couple of big incursions in the late seventies and policy changed. Torchwood One said there had to be more bodies to cope." No one questioned how he knew this. He always knew more about the organisation than they did.

Toshiko was still looking at the screen. "The last operation was a big one. The Jizm'll Horde invaded. Gosh, they look dangerous."

Owen leaned over to look. "Funny coloured unicorns on two legs," he said for the others. "And horny things on their legs and arms too."

"Caused a few injuries. It was right after that Wallswell was 'released', as it says here. May 1982," Toshiko went on thoughtfully, "around the time of the Falklands."

"Is that significant?" Gwen pushed her plate away, she had had enough.

"Don't think so. Ah …"

"What?"

Toshiko looked over the top of her glasses at Gwen. "Jack went walkabout then too. Took the assignment to dump Wallswell – doesn't say where – then disappeared for six months."

"He did that a lot, when he was sick of Torchwood and had enough cash," said Ianto. He saw the speculative looks the others gave him. "He told me."

"Wonderful thing, pillow talk," said Owen. "Ow!" He had been kicked by Gwen and thumped on the arm by Toshiko.

"Shut it, Harper," said Gwen. "It must be the Retcon that's brought Wallswell back. It's worn off, or something has triggered his memories, and he's come back here. We should never use that stuff." She had been given it before she joined but had broken through the conditioning. After the debacle when Suzie Costello had returned from the dead, using the drug to trigger her resurrection, Gwen had had nightmares about what long term effect the drug would have on her.

"It's fine," said Owen dismissively. "And how else are we supposed to do clear up? We'd have to kill all those witnesses." The discussion might have continued but Toshiko broke in.

"His daughter died. Was murdered." She looked at Gwen. "Wasn't Rebecca Carpenter the name of that girl you were telling us about? The student who was murdered this week?"

"Yeah. He's related to her?" Gwen was astounded.

"Biological father. Turned up in Cardiff yesterday afternoon according to this police report, complained he hadn't been told. He's gone missing."

"Let me see." The laptop was slid over the table and Gwen got stuck into the police's HOLMES database. Toshiko knew her way around computer records better than any of them but Gwen understood the police language and what might be implied but not actually written down. "He turned up again this morning at the Tesco Express as a suspected terrorist." She sat back remembering her own visit to the shop. "That's what Andy was doing there."

"Terrorist? They see the guns or something?" asked Owen. He wiped his mouth and shoved the plate away from him smearing sauce on the polished table top. Ianto winced.

"No, it was the weird stuff he bought. We need to talk to Andy, compare notes. If Wallswell's out to avenge his daughter or, heaven forbid, thinks he's back in 1982, he could be preparing for anything."

"Certainly got enough firepower," observed Toshiko laconically.

Ianto was looking at the laptop, scrolling through the entries. "He's shot two people. Half an hour ago."

"Bloody hell!" said Owen.

"Who? Where?" demanded Gwen. "Have they arrested him?" This was their mess - Torchwood had given the man Retcon and he had taken their weapons - it was their job to deal with him before he hurt anyone else.

"Westgate Street, outside Tesco. A policeman was shot and … a stag." Ianto frowned at the last. "Oh, a man dressed up as one. No formal identifications yet. Police are sealing the area but Wallswell got away before they reached the scene."

"Damn." Gwen was on her feet. "That means they'll be searching for him and they have no idea what they're dealing with. He could massacre half the force with those big blasters. We have to take over."

Owen was also standing. "You and me then. Tosh can do her stuff from here and –"

"No. Tosh, you're going to have come with us. They'll take more notice if there's three of us. You can use the SUV on-board computers to search for him, can't you?"

"I'll just need to transfer a couple of programs. I'll do it now." She left the room.

"Ianto, you stay here. Your job is to look after Jack."

He nodded. "I'll keep an eye on the reports, leave Tosh free for the search."

"Okay, but Jack is your priority."

"Have another go and tracking down the Krittenack. Or that Doctor bloke," said Owen as he followed Gwen out of the door.

Ianto watched them go, his loyalties torn in two. He wanted to be with his friends who were going into action against a well-armed man - a confused and bereaved man - with little but their wits to help them. But Jack needed him too, he couldn't leave him alone as if he didn't matter. There probably wasn't anything going on in his shattered mind but if there was any spark of awareness he needed the reassurance of a friendly face. Ianto was not going to give up on him. He intended to be at Jack's side when his immortal body sorted itself out and he woke up, back to his normal self.

Working quickly, Ianto cleared up the lunch and wiped the table clean. The others were on their way out of the door, carrying as much firepower as they could muster and boxes of equipment, as he descended the stairs. Leaving the dirty dishes and cartons in the kitchen, he went to the medical bay. Jack was still sleeping, breathing noisily through his mouth. Ianto wiped the dribble from his chin before taking a seat beside the examination table and opening the laptop.

-ooOoo-

They were here, the Jizm'll Horde had arrived. High in his nest, John Wallswell rubbed more polish on his face. After shooting one of them, the main force would know he was in the vicinity and be tracking him. Nothing so far in the street below. The weapons were as he had left them but he checked everything one more time. The craving in his guts that had driven him to the supermarket was back. Luckily, even in the confusion, he had managed to keep hold of the shopping and now opened the bottle of whisky. The first sip helped settle his stomach.

He looked over the parapet again. The street was busier, vehicles were appearing and people were congregating. They were coming for him. Where were the rest of the team? Why hadn't Karen sent the reinforcements she had promised? They must have been compromised, she wouldn't leave him exposed otherwise. He was on his own at least for now and he had to make every shot count. He would start with the conventional weapons, reserve the others for later. The AK47 rested neatly on the padded parapet and he looked through the sight, selecting a target.

* * *

><p><em>Will Gwen, Owen and Tosh be able to stop Wallswell? What's happened to Andy? Read the next thrilling chapter to find out.<em>


	10. Chapter 9

**Getting Even**

Chapter Nine

Owen grinned as he slewed the SUV across the pedestrianised plaza blocking in a couple of police cars. The manoeuvre was as good as any Jack could do, possibly better. Heads turned to stare at them as he, Gwen and Toshiko exited the vehicle. They swaggered to the police tape and the lowly constable raised it immediately to let them pass. Intimidation was the Torchwood way and they had mastered it during the months of Jack's unexplained absence.

"Who's in charge?" demanded Gwen.

Inspector Pugh, busy briefing uniformed officers and checking maps, groaned. Without looking up, he asked, "What do you lot want?"

"Same as you. Wallswell." Gwen planted herself in front of the inspector. As planned in the SUV, Toshiko hung back scanning the area with her PDA while Owen ran an expert eye over the police preparations.

"Why?" Tim Pugh was surprised. He stopped what he was doing and stared at them.

"He's got hold of advanced weapons. We want them."

"How advanced? What are they?" asked an officer in full riot gear. Gwen correctly assumed he was leading the Armed Response Team and noted his name, clearly shown on his uniform; Roberts.

"That's need to know, and you don't need to know. Just be aware they're ten times more powerful than that peashooter." She gestured to the Heckler and Koch G36C he was holding. "What's the latest on Wallswell?" she asked Pugh.

Standing a few feet away, Owen had completed his 360 degree visual sweep of the plaza. Groups of uniformed officers were being briefed and sent off in different directions to search the shops and other businesses in this and surrounding streets. First, to evacuate civilians and second to check the premises for John Wallswell. They were all decked out in Kevlar vests to protect them from bullets but wore orange high-visibility jackets over the top making them easier targets. Owen shook his head at the stupidity of the police mind. The Armed Response Team had made no such errors. They were in black and held their Heckler and Koch semi-automatics across their chests even while being briefed to accompany the uniforms. Behind the large police presence, and not far from the SUV, stood a couple of ambulances, both with their back doors open ready for business.

"I'm going back to the SUV," said Toshiko.

"I'll walk with you. Want to see what's going on over there." He had spotted someone being treated by a paramedic. Must have been involved in the initial shooting to need attention so soon.

Owen caught Gwen's eye and gestured to the SUV. She nodded and went back to the discussion with Pugh. He was one of the more sympathetic police officers, willing to let Torchwood in without too much moaning, and she was getting a lot of good information. The shooting had taken place in the next street over. After the initial shots were fired, everyone had scattered in panic. Shops had closed and locked their doors and those that could had also brought down shutters to protect plate glass windows. It was these premises that the uniformed officers, with cover from the Armed Response Team, were checking now. CCTV from the area was being checked for Wallswell but he had gone into a blind spot by HMV and they hadn't been able to locate him coming out of it. Clearly at that point he had only used a hand gun. Pugh and Roberts had assumed that was all he had until Gwen told them otherwise.

While Pugh spoke urgently into his radio, she stepped back and raised Toshiko on the comms. Speaking quietly, she said, "Tosh, check the CCTV around HMV. Wallswell was lost around there."

"_Will do. Scans are pretty useless at the moment, there are too many police around. Any chance you can get them to withdraw?" _

"Not yet. Maybe when the civilians are all clear."

Gwen closed the comms. Where was Wallswell? He must have stashed the other weapons somewhere, had he gone back for them? An idea occurred and she was about to raise Toshiko again when her mobile rang. Rhys.

"Bit busy, love," she told him.

"_You heard about Andy? He was shot."_ Rhys spoke fast, knowing from experience that Gwen was likely to end the call if he didn't.

"Shot?" Her head whipped round until she could see the ambulances.

"_In the city centre. Some mad man opened up and gunned him down. Police are everywhere, that's what they're saying on the radio." _

"Thanks for telling me. I'll find out how he is. Gotta go now. Love you."

She put away her mobile and turned to face Pugh. "The reports say a policeman was shot. Who was it?"

Inspector Pugh opened his mouth to reply and the back of his head exploded. The whine of the high velocity bullet came a fraction of a second later as Gwen was rolling across the open space. She reached the safety of a police van and rolled underneath it. Lying flat, she recovered her breath and peered out at the scene. Pugh was down. Roberts had found cover as had those members of his team still nearby. The rest of the police officers were slower and one young woman constable was hit in the back as she tried to get away.

"_Gwen! You okay?" _shouted Owen into the comms.

"Still breathing. Where did that come from? It must be Wallswell."

"_I'm triangulating now,"_ put in Toshiko. She was lying across the back seat of the SUV even though the doors and windows were bulletproof. _"He's up on a roof somewhere." _

"_I'll take a look around,"_ said Owen.

"Be careful!" warned Gwen sharply. He was only carrying his Glock at the moment, like her; the heavy weaponry was still in the SUV. "Who was in the ambulance?"

"_Some stupid copper who fell over his own feet." _

-ooOoo-

The ploinine energy sweep was a beautiful construction. It was like watching a kaleidoscope as it bent round itself, covering a small area each time but in such a way that it moved over the city continuously. Not for the first time, Ianto looked in awe at Toshiko's handiwork. What had been a mechanical scan was now complex and sophisticated. He made sure to leave it alone, scared of interfering with it and destroying her work. Dragging his gaze away from the patterns, he checked the other screens. He was still in the medical bay but was surrounded by laptops all doing different things so he could monitor it all. As well as keeping an eye on the scan for the Krittenack, he had access to Cardiff Police communications and records, local news websites and the Torchwood records. He turned to the last one now and went back to reading about the Jizm'll Horde. He kept in touch with the team through the comms in his ear and started when they came under fire. Relieved to hear all their voices, he relaxed again.

"They're okay, Jack. Doing a good job, just like you trained them."

Jack was awake again but lying fairly quietly. The jerking of his limbs had diminished but Ianto left the restraints on. Better to be safe especially as they were alone. Jack's eyes still rolled around and the grunts and moans were distressing. As was the almost constant stream of saliva coming out of his mouth.

"Let's wipe you up again. You're a mucky pup, sir. A very mucky pup." He gently removed the latest offering. "This better not be your way of getting my attention. You should know you have that anyway. It's very hard to ignore you, you know. I have to steel myself to look away when you're in the room. I do."

He threw away the tissue and sat back on the stool. There didn't seem to be any improvement in Jack's condition. He was quieter when Ianto was near, which was why he had set himself up in the medical bay, but there wasn't any intelligence behind the beautiful blue eyes. Was he going to stay like this forever? Should they try killing him? No, not yet, resolved Ianto. If they did that and Jack revived just the same as he was now it would be the end of all hope. That had to be the very last resort.

"I wish we knew more about how you work, Jack. This gift of yours, why isn't it mending you, huh? Can it? Do you know? Have you been through this before?" Ianto sighed and ran a hand through Jack's hair. "Owen wants to contact The Doctor. Thinks he might be able to help. Can he, Jack? Can he bring you out of this? Because if he can, I'll tear the universe apart to find him and force him to do it. I will."

In the ensuing silence, Jack's wandering gaze actually met Ianto's and held it for a second or two before the eyes moved on. Saliva dribbled out of his open mouth and Ianto wiped it away mechanically. Despite all the good things Jack had said about The Doctor, Ianto found it hard to let go of his fear of the Time Lord. Torchwood One had drummed the initial distrust into him but it was now compounded with rivalry for Jack's affections. Jack may say he had come back to Cardiff to be with him, Ianto, but it was hard to believe.

"Better get back to work, I suppose. Mustn't slack off just because the boss can't do anything about it. Must be boring for you, just lying there. I wonder …" He went back to one of the laptops. A few minutes later he turned to Jack again. "There, what do you think of that? Your own light show, sir." A changing pattern of coloured lights played all over the ceiling and top of the walls. "You look at that while I get on here."

-ooOoo-

Back at his nest on the rooftops, Wally Wallswell was humming a tune from his favourite musical, _Annie Get Your Gun_. He loved all the old shows and had been delighted when Becky had followed … Becky? He sat still, the AK47 lying across his knee, and explored this new memory. He had a daughter who liked singing and dancing. She had been a Munchkin and Annie and …

Shaking his head, he took a long swig of whisky. This must be some Jizm'll trick, telepathy or something. They were trying to mess with his mind because he had taken down two of them. He grinned. It had been good shooting given his position and the wind veering east to west. Karen couldn't criticise his marksmanship though she found plenty of other things to complain about. He took some more whisky. Drinking was one of them. According to her, he drank too much which made him unreliable and intolerant. Why shouldn't he drink? He had nothing else in his life. No family, no friends. He frowned. So who was Becky?

-ooOoo-

Moving sideways, Gwen eased out from under the van. She crouched behind the front wing and surveyed the scene. The police officers had found shelter where they could – behind vehicles, benches, a telephone box – with some breaking into a vacant shop. Two bodies lay on the paved street. Pugh was clearly dead but the woman officer appeared to be moving an arm. She was some ten metres away from Gwen.

Raising her gaze, Gwen spotted Roberts across the street about twenty metres beyond the woman. He was standing with his back to a wall. Using universal gestures, he pointed to the woman and motioned Gwen dragging her to safety while he provided cover. They'd be taking a hell of a risk but the woman would die if she was left there. Gwen nodded her agreement and prepared to move. Roberts counted down using his fingers and they both sprang forward. Ten metres had never seemed as far before. Every moment, Gwen expected a bullet to smash into her head like it had Pugh's. She was amazed to reach the woman unscathed. Gripping her under the armpits, Gwen raised her slightly and dragged her backwards. After a few metres, Roberts reached down and took some of the weight keeping his machine gun in the other hand. They reached the safety of the van and Roberts gestured to other officers to take the injured woman to the paramedics.

"He's moved." Roberts was scanning the rooftops. "We were too good a target not to try for us."

"He's got to be on a roof somewhere." Gwen leant against the van and took in deep breaths. Her palms felt gritty and she rubbed them on her jeans. "Call in a helicopter."

"Being done. ETA three minutes."

"Good. You in charge now?"

He smiled. "No chance. DCI is on his way. That was an AK, nothing fancy. You sure he's got your special weapons?"

"Positive." She looked to the SUV. "Let's see what my colleague has found out."

Being careful, they slipped from cover to cover and made the far side of the SUV. Toshiko had moved to the left hand - safer - side of the backseat and was sitting up again working the computer. She opened the window as Gwen approached.

"Well done," she said with a brief smile. "Wallswell's moved."

"We realised. Can you pinpoint him?"

"Not yet. Should be able to do more when the helicopter gets here."

"How do you know about that?" asked Roberts. He was alternating looking up at the roofs and peering into the SUV at the technology on display.

Toshiko looked at him pityingly and spoke to Gwen. "Getting better scan results now the area has been cleared."

"Good." said Gwen. "Looks like the DCI has arrived." She gestured to a car which had stopped near the ambulances.

Recognising the dismissal, Roberts jogged away. Gwen opened the comms. "Ianto, need you to do two things. Find out the status of the officer in the original shooting. And where Wallswell was positioned during that last operation in 1982."

"_On it."_

"It'll take a few minutes to find Wallswell. He's moving about," said Toshiko.

"Just hope it's before he starts using the blasters." She scanned the area again and spotted a familiar figure further down the street hiding behind a pillar. "What the heck!" She sprinted off.

* * *

><p><em>Who has Gwen seen? Will Wallswell fire again? Is Andy really dead? Find out in the next chapter ...<em>


	11. Chapter 10

**Getting Even**

Chapter Ten

Finding the information Gwen wanted took just a few minutes. Ianto kept both screens open on the relevant records and opened the comms. "Gwen, I have that information."

"_Go ahead." _

"Press reports are wrong about the original incident. The policeman is okay, it was a civilian who was killed. Mike Hughes."

"_So I see. And Wallswell?" _

Ianto frowned. What did Gwen mean? Shaking his head, he went to the other screen. "In 1982 he was a sniper. After landing in Cathays, the Horde was channelled into High Street and Westgate Street where the main Torchwood force was waiting for them. Wallswell was up on a roof."

"_Anything about precisely where?" _

"No, sorry. Only that he enjoyed the killing too much. That was why Karen Wriggler finally got rid of him."

"_Okay, thanks. How's Jack?" _

"The same."

There was silence before Gwen said, _"Have to go." _

"She's concerned for you, sir," said Ianto. He wiped Jack's chin again. "Got a real soft spot for you, she has. In love with you, I reckon. Surprised you never did anything about it. Not like you to hold back."

Ianto knew all about Jack's casual sexual encounters. There had been many in the past but none since his return. Now Jack looked and commented but didn't touch. Or he had got better at hiding, conceded Ianto. Somehow it wouldn't have mattered even if he had been obvious about it. Ianto was only concerned about relationships that had a deeper meaning, like with The Doctor or Gwen.

"I'm glad you didn't though, sir. That would have been a bit too close to home." Watching Jack he realised their gazes were locked again, and stayed that way for a minute or two before Jack's head twitched and his gaze moved on. "Are you trying to communicate, Jack? Are you coming out of this?" he asked urgently. Holding Jack's head still, Ianto tried to make eye contact again.

-ooOoo-

"Come on then, how'd it happen?" asked Gwen.

"It was Hughes. He pushed me down and got hit instead. I just got this." An unusually sombre Andy Davidson held up a splinted wrist. "Broke it when I went down."

"Always said you were a lucky sod." She reached out and hugged him fiercely. "I thought you were dead. That's what they're saying on the radio."

He held her for as long as he dared. "They're putting out a correction."

Standing back, she said, "You ought to go home. Get some rest." As well as the injured wrist, Andy's face and hands were bruised and scraped where they had made contact with the pavement.

"A good man died saving my life. I'm not going home," he said bluntly.

"No, I suppose you're not. Just stay out of the way, you've given me enough grief already today."

"Why, Gwen? Why is he shooting people? You must know something or you wouldn't be here." He followed her as she headed back to the SUV.

"I'm here because he's got hold of advanced weapons."

"How? He's a lorry driver for Christ's sake!"

Gwen turned to face him. "He's ex-Army and –"

"That was donkey's years ago. Why now? And why start shooting people? It doesn't make sense, Gwen. Unless it's some of your spooky-dos. Is that it?" He could tell from her expression that he was close to the truth. "It is."

"Go home, Andy." She strode off to the SUV where Toshiko was waving at her.

"I'm getting something from the helicopter images," she said, ignoring Gwen's scowl. "There's a –"

She broke off as loud automatic machine gun fire clattered from overhead. Both women ducked and Andy, who had followed Gwen, threw himself behind the bulk of the vehicle beside her. Two loud explosions and they pressed further into the vehicle; Wallswell was using grenades now. More firing for what seemed like a long time but was actually only a minute and a half. Gwen eased past Andy to the front wing and peered up, Glock in hand. A shot from here would probably not reach the roofs but there was a chance. The sun was in her eyes and she squinted against the glare. Damn. Why couldn't it be wet and cold like a normal spring? A dark object arced down and landed near the police van exploding on landing. The nearest police officer flew backwards and lay still. Andy tried to push past but she held him back. No one would survive out there until the firing stopped. Once assured Andy was staying put, she looked up once again. She still couldn't make out anything until a human outline appeared for a fraction of a second. She fired twice, the sound of her shots drowned by automatic fire from five metres away. Roberts had seen the same outline.

All gunfire ceased. The figure teetered on the edge and then slowly toppled forward and fell twenty metres to the ground. Everything was still for a long minute, only the sound of the helicopter's rotors high above filling the silence. Then Roberts started walking carefully forward, gun trained on the body. Two of his men flanked him, weapons trained on the roofs. After a moment, Gwen rose and followed them, aware of Andy on her heels. Nearing the body, she faltered. It wasn't big enough to be Wallswell; this man was slimmer and younger. The clothes and the hair were familiar …

"That's not him," said Andy. "It's not Wallswell but … I've seen him before. He was at –" He stared at Gwen as he remembered a wet night and a murdered man.

"It's Owen." She sank to her knees beside the body.

-ooOoo-

Making coffee absorbed all Ianto's attention. He went through the familiar routine but it was as if it was the first time had had ever done it. His hands moved automatically and he watched, amazed they knew what to do. When the stream of liquid had filled the mug, he took it and put it to his lips. It was hot, too hot, but he sipped anyway, the slight pain a welcome distraction from the bigger one.

Owen was dead.

Ianto's knees gave way and he sank into a chair. He had never been close to Owen, put off by his sarky tongue and prickly exterior, until one night when Jack had been away a month or so. They had been in the Hub, just the two of them, and Owen started talking to himself, or so Ianto had thought. Owen had spoken of Katie Russell, his fiancée who had been killed by an alien brain parasite, and their love, their plans for the future and how he had felt when that had all been destroyed. The monologue had gone on for a while and Ianto had been unable to stop listening or to move away. It explained so much about Owen. He felt about Katie as Ianto felt about Lisa Hallett and, at that time, Jack. Ianto would always remember how Owen had ended, words spoken just before he left for the night.

"I'm through with what might have been. From now on I'm grabbing life and hanging on because it's going to be a hell of ride."

The two men had never spoken about that night and Ianto couldn't be sure if Owen had spoken aloud to encourage him to forget and to move forward. Perhaps. Or perhaps he had forgotten Ianto was even in the Hub, it was quite possible. One night he locked everything down and Ianto had been stuck in the archives until Toshiko arrived the next day. But that could have been deliberate, Owen liked … had liked practical jokes. Whatever Owen had intended, his words had helped Ianto survive Jack's absence and not be a pushover when he returned. Remembering his coffee, Ianto took a sip. Whatever Owen had intended, Ianto decided he was going to follow Owen's example. Life was to be lived however long, or short, it turned out to be.

-ooOoo-

The images and scans from the helicopter were assisting Toshiko locate John Wallswell. They were in a different format to her own but the difficulties thrown up kept her busy and were an excuse not to look out of the vehicle. She didn't need and certainly didn't want to be involved in moving the body. Let Gwen argue about that. With an irritated swipe of her hand, Toshiko wiped her eyes. Tears wouldn't bring Owen back but she couldn't stop crying just the same.

Leaving the scan to run, she turned to other matters. First the police reports. The woman constable Gwen had helped rescue had died on her way to hospital making the number of dead five – so far. Six if she included Owen. She thumped the keyboard and the whole housing juddered and creaked. What had he been doing on the roof? Why hadn't he kept back from the edge? Why, why, why? She found tissues and wiped her eyes and nose. It wasn't fair! Just when he had begun to drop his prickly outer shell and reveal the man beneath, he had been cut down. With a shake of the head, she resolutely damped down her grief. There was work to be done.

-ooOoo-

They had dragged Owen to shelter. The paramedic went through the motions of checking his vitals but all those watching knew it was unnecessary, especially Gwen. His chest and abdomen were riddled with bullets and his eyes were open and staring at the sky. Many emotions were churning within Gwen but primarily guilt that one of her bullets might have caused his death.

"He's dead," confirmed the paramedic. He gestured for his partner and together they transferred Owen to a stretcher. "Do you have an ID?"

"Owen Harper." Gwen's voice was flat but full of supressed tears.

"Okay. We'll take him now."

This penetrated Gwen's fog and her head snapped up. "What? No, you're not taking him. We'll deal with it."

"Gwen, don't be daft," said Andy. "He's got to go to –"

"I said no! Bring him over by here." She stomped to the SUV and opened the boot. It was full of equipment and, as always, a few body bags were folded neatly by the Weevil spray. She flung one at the paramedics. "Put him in this."

"This is highly irregular," one of them complained. He looked around for someone to override the hysterical woman and was relieved to see DCI Hewitt approaching.

"What's going on here? Get this man to the ambulance," he ordered.

"NO!" Gwen shouted loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear. "He stays with us."

Toshiko slipped out of the vehicle and came round to stand by Gwen. "That's right. You have no authority over us." Privately, she hated the idea of taking Owen back to the Hub but he deserved their best care even in death.

Hewitt had more important matters on his mind. The operation was turning into a shambles, he had a number of dead officers and the gunman was still on the loose. If these mad women wanted the body he couldn't be bothered to argue. They were Torchwood after all. "Take it then."

"Get your people out of here," said Gwen. She should have taken over before, she realised. Jack would have. He'd have cleared the police out and dealt with Wallswell alone and there would have been none of this bloodshed. Even after a year or more, she still hadn't abandoned her police training and people had died as a result. No more. "Set up a perimeter two streets away on all sides and don't let anyone in. We'll deal with this."

Hewitt stared at her. "Just the two of you?" he scoffed.

"Yes, the two of us. Now, get moving. You have one minute. And lose the helicopter." The images from above had not helped so far and she didn't want anyone watching what they were doing.

She turned her back on Hewitt and watched as Owen was manhandled into the body bag. She was touched to see Andy helping despite his bad wrist and had to swallow back tears as Toshiko gently held Owen's head. They had all lost a friend today but now was not the time to mourn. It was time to end this.

"Ianto, still there?"

"_Yes." _

"I've sent the police packing. They're getting in the way. Tosh and I are taking over, like we should have done at the start. I'll need you to pick up the scans and talk us in. Can you do that?"

"_Yes. You be careful." _

"Always. We'll be bringing Owen back with us, he'll need …"

"_I'll get everything ready." _

"Thanks." She closed the comms feeling stronger. At moments like these, Ianto's calm professionalism was what she needed to see her through.

The body bag had been placed on the backseat of the SUV in as seemly a way as possible. Toshiko was at the boot getting out the large weapons when Gwen joined her. They did not speak. Both knew what to do and were prepared.

All around them police officers were pulling back. DCI Hewitt had considered his options and decided this was the one most likely to save his career. If the operation became Torchwood's responsibility, they could take the blame for the losses so far and whatever else might occur. Roberts had protested and been overruled. He and Hewitt, still arguing, were walking to the new command post when there was an almighty blast from the parallel High Street. Hewitt rapped out immediate orders for his people not to respond. It appeared he had handed over responsibility at exactly the right time.

"_Energy weapon discharged a hundred metres to your north-east,"_ came over the comms.

"We heard it." Gwen slung the shoulder strap over her back. "On our way."

* * *

><p><em>Phew, Andy's okay. But Owen's dead instead! Will Gwen and Tosh be able to take down Wallswell on their own? More coming very soon ...<em>


	12. Chapter 11

**Getting Even**

Chapter Eleven

Quelling his fears for Gwen and Toshiko, Ianto sat looking at all the laptop screens. The energy blast in High Street had demolished the front of the Waterstone's store and taken out the nearest CCTV cameras. He had scrolled through those that remained and got a view from the camera on Barclay's Bank. Waterstone's wall had disappeared, the bricks and mortar melted by Newok energy, leaving a gaping hole. The upper storeys sagged dangerously and severed electricity cables sparked where they hung down to the left of the opening. Two figures appeared from the store, uniformed police officers who had ushered people inside after the first shooting and who had been sheltering there ever since.

"No, don't," whispered Ianto.

As he spoke they did what he feared, they urged the sheltering civilians out into the street. Four more people emerged, three women and a man, and they all started walking quickly away. The first shots took out the police officers but a spray of automatic fire did for the civilians in less than two minutes. Further fire sprayed the bodies and the front of the shops.

Working the keyboard, Ianto used the continuing fire to pinpoint its source. He opened the comms. "Gwen, he's on top of Boots, opposite Waterstone's. Or what's left of it."

"_Got that. What's he firing at?" _Gwen and Toshiko were running up an alley to High Street; not far away but out of sight.

"People were in the shop. They tried to get clear."

Gwen gripped the gun harder, her knuckles going white. More people had died through her timidity. _"What's the best route to his position?" _

He flicked through the screens again. "Clinton Cards' doors are open. It's one shop down from where you'll come out and four shops down from Boots. Get on the roof from there. They all link up so you'll be able to work your way along without too much hassle." Providing Wallswell doesn't open fire on you, he thought but did not say. There was nothing Ianto could do about it if he did.

Looking for a distraction, he turned back to Jack and automatically wiped his chin. "They're being careful, sir. Gwen knows what she's doing and Toshiko won't let her do anything rash. I'd better get a cover story ready. Gas leak, I think, it always works well."

A single beep from another of the laptops attracted his attention. The sweeps for ploinine energy had found a static source and Ianto now knew the location of the Krittenack. The levels of energy were low at present but even as he watched the reading rose a couple of points. Once it reached a critical level it had to be released and anyone within range would be headed for Providence Park, sent mad by the exposure. Someone had to block it and there was only one person who could – him. He couldn't do it from the Hub, he wasn't skilled enough, he would have to go to the source. But he couldn't leave Jack on his own. He was about to open the comms and seek advice when he glanced at the CCTV feed. Gwen and Toshiko were edging towards Clinton's; it would be foolish to distract them at this critical point. This was a problem he had to resolve alone.

-ooOoo-

High Street was deserted and silent now the firing had stopped. Gwen could see the destroyed front of Waterstone's across the street and the bodies lying in grotesque attitudes in front of it as she side-stepped to Clinton's, keeping her back pressed against the wall. Those people had died because of the bad decisions she had made. Owen had died because of her too. Had she learnt nothing since her first day with Torchwood and the gas sex monster? Trying to dampen these destructive thoughts, she concentrated on getting through the doors of Clinton's, the large gun making it awkward. The shop was still lit and she ran to the back and the emergency staircase. The access to the roof must be this way.

Behind her, Toshiko kept a wary eye out for Wallswell – he might have come down from the roof – and for civilians. She was concerned. They were heading into danger with Gwen blaming herself for the deaths, not a good state of mind. Once through the swing doors, they ran up the first flight of stairs where Toshiko called a halt.

"Gwen, wait up a minute."

"There no time to lose." She continued up another three stairs.

"Gwen, stop! You can't go up against Wallswell in this mood."

"What mood? What are you talking about?"

"Blaming yourself. I can see it, you don't have to pretend to me. Nor do you have to justify yourself. You were right to try working with the police, it just didn't work out. And Owen shouldn't have been where he was, it was a stupid place to be. He should have known better." She blinked, her eyes suddenly watering. "We have to put all that behind us and concentrate on taking Wallswell down."

Gwen held Toshiko's gaze and, after a moment, nodded. "You're right. Thanks for … for saying it."

"You're a good leader, Gwen, that's why we follow you. Just believe in yourself."

"I'll try." She smiled before starting back up the stairs, more slowly this time. Caution was needed from here on in. "Why do you think he's doing this? Wallswell, I mean."

"It's too extreme to be revenge for his daughter. And too indiscriminate. I think it has to do with the last operation he was on."

"Why? Why now?"

Toshiko was silent, thinking hard as she climbed the stairs. "I wonder if this is his first visit to Cardiff since then."

"Surely he'd have come to see Rebecca at the university."

"The police report said he hadn't been in touch with her for years. And that they hadn't notified him of her murder, he found out on the news. No, I think this was his first visit and … that triggered the memories?" Toshiko couldn't quite believe that was enough. Cardiff had changed almost beyond recognition since the 1980s. What had been a stagnant, post-industrial city was now the home of the Welsh Assembly, a vibrant centre of the arts and with a burgeoning population of primarily young people working in high-tech industries.

"Not enough. It takes more than that to break through Retcon, I should know! He must have seen something, heard something."

Toshiko stopped dead. "The stags!"

"What?" Gwen looked down at Toshiko who was a couple of steps behind.

"In the demonstration, protest, whatever you call it. There were people dressed up as stags. They had horns on their heads, like the Jizm'll Horde." Toshiko's mind was racing as it all came together. "Owen and I saw them – was it only yesterday? – up by the Castle, not far from the police station. Wallswell must have seen them too."

"But they look nothing alike."

"Close enough. And that part of the city's not changed as much as the rest. So, it reminds him of the operation and he breaks into the Hub. Got lucky there, finding me going in. He's confused - he thinks he's back in 1982, don't forget - he takes weapons and sets up in the same position he was in back then. In his mind, he's fighting the Horde."

"Maybe."

"I'm sure that's how it happened! Think about it, Gwen. The first person he kills is one of the protesters dressed up."

"And a policeman, or that's what he was aiming at." The two women were climbing the final flight of stairs.

"I know, not sure why unless … Those orange jackets they wear look a bit like the Jizm'll."

"Long shot, Tosh. But if you're right, we have to play this carefully. Wallswell's going to be on the alert and likely to shoot at anything that moves." They had arrived at the door leading out onto the roof. "We go through low and then separate. I go right, you left. Find cover and then we can take stock. Work our way to his position, which is that way." She pointed to the north. "Ready?"

Toshiko checked her gun and said, "Yes."

They opened the door and rushed through.

-ooOoo-

"I wish you'd co-operate, sir. This is usually so easy." Ianto tried again to get Jack's arm into his greatcoat sleeve. "Mica is easier to dress than you and she wriggles around all over the place. One more time, sir, and try to help."

He had moved Jack from the medical bay to the couch in the work area before retrieving the old wheelchair from the stores. Ianto's reasoning was simple. He had to go out and prevent the Krittenack changing into its natural form. He couldn't leave Jack alone. Ergo Jack had to go with him. But it was easier said than done. Jack was much quieter than before, barely twitching and even the dribble on his chin had diminished, but his limbs still wouldn't do what Ianto wanted without effort which took time they didn't have.

"Finally. Now to get you into the chair. On your feet." Ianto lifted him, put a shoulder under Jack's arm and shuffled to the chair. Ignoring the bunched up greatcoat, Ianto dumped the bag containing a PDA and the all-important emitter on Jack's knee and pushed him down the sloping shallow steps past the water tower. "We're going on a trip, sir, and I need you on your best behaviour as we'll be in my car. You know how I feel about it, so no dribbling on the upholstery." He wondered if the answering gurgling grunt meant anything.

Luckily Ianto had left his car in the underground car park which had level access from the Hub. He wheeled Jack along, stopping only once when his boss threatened to slip out of the chair. The bag went on the backseat. Getting Jack into the front was as problematical as getting him this far and it took valuable minutes to get his legs into the footwell and secure the seatbelt across him.

"I think you're doing this deliberately, sir, just so I have to manhandle you." He stared into Jack's eyes and wondered again if awareness was returning. Jack was very quiet now and seemed able to focus. Was that a good sign? Or did it just mean he was slipping into total mental incapacity? "I'd touch you up if it would make you come back to me. To us. There's that's another promise that's too good to pass up." He paused a moment but there was no response. He placed a quick kiss on Jack's lips. "Off we go then, sir. I just hope we'll be in time."

-ooOoo-

The Press were out in force, crowding up to the barriers at every point of the cordon thrown around the city centre. Their ranks were swelled by interested civilians who, unable to enter the shops, were craning to see what was going on. The huge blast and subsequent gunfire had resulted in the crowd surging around, some people wanting to get away others moving forward. Every off-duty police officer had been called in to help contain the situation. They were manning the barriers, re-routing traffic and liaising with local shopkeepers anxious about their premises.

Andy Davidson had one of the worst jobs, taking details of missing people. The process of finding and bringing out everyone in the shops had halted when Torchwood had taken over. Anyone still within the cordon, which included some police officers, were using radios, mobiles and landlines to call for assistance. When told to stay put and lay low, some had decided to telephone friends and family and the media, increasing the panic as news spread. Video footage was beginning to appear on YouTube and Facebook and was shown on the television news. In this climate, everyone wanted to register the names of those still thought to be trapped and demand they be rescued.

As Andy laboriously took down the details, he thought of Gwen. Where was she now? Had she reached Wallswell? He looked longingly at the barrier and fought the urge to climb over and find her. No matter what she said, it wasn't right to leave her and her friend to go up against a well-armed man.

"Now what?" said WPC Pam Jones. She was sitting at the flimsy table beside Andy but staring at a black Polo edging through the crowd blowing its horn. "Bloody reporters!"

Andy followed her gaze then stood up for a better view. He didn't know the car but the figure in the passenger seat was unmistakable. "About bloody time," he muttered. Abandoning a woman anxious for her daughter, he strode off. Pushing through the crowd, he got to where colleagues were make a path for the car, arriving as the barrier was raised to let the Polo through. He ducked through with it.

DCI Hewitt was waiting for the driver to stop. It was getting harder to keep the crowd under control the longer the incident went on and he was under pressure from the Chief Constable, the mayor and Assembly members to bring it to a swift conclusion. He was surprised when a slim young man emerged from the car. Were all Torchwood personnel women and boys?

"I hope you're here to end this," said Hewitt, waving an arm at the melee all around.

"Not precisely." Ianto retrieved the PDA and emitter, not interested in being polite. Time was critical. Swinging round he got a bearing for the Krittenack; fifty metres north behind the bulk of Howells. If it changed form these people were too close. "Get everyone back another hundred metres."

"This is ridiculous! We haven't the manpower. We're barely holding them back now," he added in a lower voice.

Ianto didn't have time to answer. The levels of ploinine energy were rising to dangerous levels. He spotted Andy, a familiar face from his association with Gwen. "Andy, stay with Jack. I won't be long." With that he sprinted off round the corner.

Frowning, Andy bent and looked into the car. Why was Mulder staying back and leaving everything to his team? Not like him at all. One look and he knew the answer.

* * *

><p><em>Now Ianto's in thick of it. Will he find the Krittenack in time? Will Gwen and Tosh overpower Wallswell? How will Jack get on in Andy's care? Find out in the next chapter ...<em>


	13. Chapter 12

_On with the action ..._

* * *

><p><strong>Getting Even<strong>

Chapter Twelve

The roofs of the shops were littered with obstacles. Toshiko crouched behind a utility box of some kind and peered round. Gwen was almost opposite, lying spread-eagled in the scant shelter of a raised grating. The two women were making slow progress, not moving forward until they were sure they could provide covering fire for one another. So far there had been no sign of Wallswell. Toshiko didn't want him to kill anyone else but some gunfire would tell them where he was hiding.

"Okay, Tosh, when you're ready," came over the comms.

Giving Gwen the thumbs up, Toshiko ran quickly to the next cover. A moment to look ahead and then she was on the comms herself. "Nothing. Your turn."

At that moment what Toshiko had not exactly hoped for happened. There was a burst of gunfire. Both women ducked before realising the fire wasn't aimed at them. It was coming from some way ahead but, from the sound, appeared to be aimed downwards. Some more people must have ventured out of hiding.

"Let's stop sodding about," said Gwen. "On three, we go forward, all guns blazing." She was sick and tired of being cautious. Jack wouldn't have pussyfooted about like this, he'd have gone in right from the start. Admittedly, it was probably easier to charge ahead when dying wasn't permanent but there had been plenty of times when he had not been scratched, his surprise appearance having caught the enemy off guard.

"Okay." Toshiko did not like this aspect of Torchwood's work but she was well-trained and more than capable of keeping up with Gwen. Besides, she could still remember seeing Owen fall from the roof and land in the street, his dead body being carried to the SUV, the body bag on the backseat. She had a personal score to settle.

"One, two, three."

Gwen stood up and began to run, dodging round obstacles. Toshiko waited for her to get level then joined the charge. Five metres apart, they ran on determined to get the job done.

-ooOoo-

Ianto had not believed it when the scan led him straight to the SUV. It was parked haphazardly near a wall with two abandoned police cars wedged in on its nearside. Owen's idea of parallel parking, obviously. Circling the area, Ianto confirmed that the source of the ploinine energy was inside the vehicle. How had the Krittenack got in there? Ianto did not have time to come up with an answer before a burst of machine gun fire rained down from above.

In unconscious imitation of Gwen earlier in the day, he rolled under the SUV blessing Jack for insisting the vehicle was bullet and bomb proof. Cramped and dirty but safe, Ianto got to work on the emitter. Two minutes later it was primed and emitting the signal that would neutralise the ploinine energy; the Krittenack could not change shape for as long as the battery lasted. They had four hours. Only when he had placed the emitter securely did he realise the firing had stopped. Gingerly, he moved crabwise out from under the SUV and waited. No firing. Kneeling, he reached up to the handle and opened the back door. The black shape of the body bag surprised him and the Glock was in his hand before he remembered that this must be Owen. He checked the inside of the vehicle – nothing – then crawled round to the boot and checked in there – also nothing. Where was the Krittenack? Using the PDA, he scanned the vehicle and was drawn back to the body bag.

Could it be? With shaking hands, he unzipped one end of the bag and swallowed hard at seeing Owen's white and dead face. He scanned some more and then smiled, a broad smile that became a grin.

Opening the comms he said, "Gwen, Tosh, Owen's not dead! It was the Krittenack masquerading as Owen that was shot." He waited but no one replied. "Gwen? Tosh?" Still nothing. His elation dissipated fast; they must be in trouble. He looked up at the roofs but couldn't see anything against the glare of the sun. He tried once more. "Is anyone receiving me? Gwen? Tosh? Owen?" He had belatedly realised that their doctor was now unaccounted for.

The silence continued for a long minute. With each second the horror of being the only one left alive grew in Ianto's breast. He couldn't take it, not again. Surviving Canary Wharf had almost finished him, being the sole survivor of the Torchwood Three team was not an option. He would find the others or go down fighting. He reached into the boot for a decent weapon.

-ooOoo-

Neither Gwen nor Toshiko heard Ianto's message. They were unconscious and in the process of being bound by John Wallswell. Karen had lectured the team repeatedly on the reporters snooping around Torchwood, following up stray leads from sources as yet unknown. They were a nuisance that made a difficult job almost impossible. Standing orders were to detain any that intruded on operations until Jack could give them one of his forgetting pills. Wallswell hadn't expected reporters to be armed but that had not proved a problem. He lifted the Asian woman and carried her to his nest, propping her up beside the man he had caught earlier.

"You reporters get everywhere," he commented sourly.

"Gotta get the scoop," said Owen.

"Not about us. You tangled with the wrong people." Wallswell went back for the other woman.

Owen watched him. He had learnt to be wary of this man's temper and fists in the time he had been his captive. It was such a stupid error that had landed him here. Scouting round the area, Owen had seen a furtive figure disappear around a corner heading for the roofs and assumed it was Wallswell. Following, he soon realised it wasn't – the man was too young and of the wrong build – but there was something suspicious about the way he moved from cover to cover. Gaining the roof, he had spotted the real Wallswell firing down into the street and kept low, trying to get behind him. Then the man he had been following stepped forward into the full sunshine and Owen had seen it was his twin. He'd not got over the shock before the impostor was shot from below and fell down into the street. Owen blamed the effects of seeing himself killed for the lack of concentration that had allowed Wallswell to spot and capture him.

Now Owen watched as Gwen was placed on the other side of Toshiko. Neither woman looked badly hurt. With two of them, Wallswell had evidently had to knock them out to gain sufficient time to tie them up. He watched as Wallswell settled against the parapet opposite checking the AK47 across his knee. His hands trembled, probably the result of the whisky and beer he had been drinking, which gave Owen hope that when Ianto came looking for them – as Owen knew he would – the teaboy would have better luck than the rest of them.

The AK47 was almost out of ammunition, less than half a clip left. Wallswell laid it aside. He'd have to use the other guns from now on even though they were unfamiliar. The blast from the one he'd used earlier had shocked him. He had had no idea it would take out a wall which is why he had reverted to the AK. Where had such a powerful weapon come from? He was in charge of the armoury and tested each new acquisition. Why had Karen kept this one from him? Reaching for the Newok blaster, he noticed his shaking hands and decided more whisky was needed to steady his nerves. He took a long drink from the bottle. Gone were any lingering doubts about why he was drinking so much, it was enough that it tasted good and that he needed it.

"Any chance of some water?" asked Owen. The sun was warm and he needed a drink.

"Water? Don't you want some of this?" Wallswell waved the bottle.

"You need that more than I do."

"Damn right." He took another swig then, on his knees, crossed the metre or so to Owen and held the bottle of water for him to drink.

More went down his front than in his mouth but Owen was grateful for the liquid. "Cheers, mate."

"You shouldn't be here much longer. The others will get here soon." Wallswell was back against the wall, blaster cradled in his arms. He laughed evilly. "Then you'll not remember anything."

"This pill, eh? Tell me more." Attempts to persuade Wallswell that Owen was also a Torchwood operative had been met with blows so the doctor had assumed the role of reporter. Getting the man talking had been difficult but Owen was now convinced Wallswell was lost in memories from 1982, probably the result of the Retcon he had taken.

"No. Gonna check the area. Might be more stragglers from the Horde." He got to his feet, still agile and coordinated despite the booze, and disappeared round the lift housing.

Owen cursed under his breath but said nothing; Wallswell was single-minded and trying to delay him would only rouse suspicions. As he had nothing better to do, Owen tried his bonds – old-fashioned rope - again. There was a little more give, perhaps, but not enough to free an arm. He wished he had his comms earpiece but that had fallen out long ago. Both Toshiko and Gwen still had theirs, he could see them, which was encouraging. They would be able to raise Ianto once they woke up. He went back to working on freeing himself.

-ooOoo-

Ianto must have looked incongruous striding down the alley in a suit with a large gun slung across his shoulders and held in both hands. He didn't care and not only because there was no one to see him. His thoughts were focussed on finding and, if necessary, avenging his colleagues. Even concern for Jack had drifted to the back of his mind. Their boss was unable to help them, it was up to Ianto to stop Wallswell.

Emerging into High Street, he walked purposefully to Clinton's Cards with no attempt to conceal himself. Across the street lay the bodies of the most recent dead, a reminder, if he needed one, of what he was up against. In the shop he located the emergency stairs and began the climb to the roof. There hadn't been any more gunfire and he took that as a good sign. Perhaps Gwen and Toshiko were stalking Wallswell and unable to use the comms. It happened. He recalled a Weevil hunt when Owen had been out of contact for some time because he was concealed so close to the target he couldn't speak without being heard. Unable to get a clear shot, he had had to wait until the others had taken down the Weevil before coming out of hiding. He had received a lot of ribbing for that. Ianto hoped that something similar had happened this time and that all three of his colleagues – no, he amended, friends – were unharmed.

At the top of the stairs, he paused to listen. Nothing. Easing open the door to the roof just a crack, he looked out. Again nothing. He opened the door wider and went through at a crouching run to the nearest cover. Ears straining for the slightest noise and gaze darting into all the shadows, Ianto waited for a few seconds to get his bearings. There was no sign of Gwen or Toshiko. Or Owen. He had been out of contact for a lot longer; what had happened to him? Moving cautiously, Ianto went forward again. He had gone ten metres when he spotted a Glock lying on the ground. Taking cover, he checked all around. That had to be one of the others' weapon; what was it doing here? Nothing moved and Ianto crept forward. He bent to pick up the Glock and felt the cold metal of a gun barrel placed against the back of his head.

"Put all your weapons down where I can see them," ordered Wallswell.

Moving very slowly, Ianto did as he was told. Only when he had his own pistol in his hand did he turn suddenly and aim at his captor. The gun was knocked away contemptuously and the butt of the blaster came down on the top of Ianto's head. It might have killed him if the Welshman had not raised an arm. As it was, it knocked him out. He was unconscious before his face made contact with the roof.

-ooOoo-

"Reporters? You've got to be joking."

"Nope. Seems they were sniffing around back in '82."

"So he really is reliving that time." Gwen frowned.

"Yep. Any joy, Tosh?" Owen glanced at her. She was sitting very close to him, her head on his shoulder, trying to get her comms to open a channel to Ianto without the use of her hands.

"No."

The women had roused within minutes of one another and been shocked but overjoyed to see Owen alive. Deducing that it was probably the Krittenack that had been killed had given them a momentary worry as they contemplated what would happen to the body. Would it revert to normal once dead? As they couldn't do anything about it, at least for the moment, they had concentrated on trying to get free but their ropes were tight and had no give whatsoever. They were stuck unless they could talk their way out of this or Ianto came to rescue them. However, he was far away in the Hub and they couldn't call for help. They hoped he was watching the CCTV.

"It'll take a while for him to get here anyway," said Gwen. "That's if he'd leave Jack."

"He'll come," said Toshiko firmly. "Don't write him off. He'd never leave us if –" She broke off.

Wallswell appeared soundlessly around the lift housing, an unconscious body slung over his shoulder. It didn't take more than a glance at the suit to realise that this was Ianto. The captives' hopes plummeted.

* * *

><p><em>What a pickle! Who's going to rescue them now?<em>


	14. Chapter 13

**Getting Even**

Chapter Thirteen

The asphalt on the roof was uncomfortable. Gwen shifted from one butt cheek to the other. Everything had gone wrong with this operation from the start. Bad decisions had cost lives and it wasn't over yet. Wallswell had the upper hand completely. They were at his mercy and there was no one else competent to take him down. She looked around the small area which was full of people and equipment. Wallswell had the prime spot surrounded by weapons and supplies. He had made a good job of creating this hidey-hole and could hold off anyone who tried to attack except, possibly, from the air. But she had ordered the police helicopter to leave and she couldn't see DCI Hewitt taking responsibility for getting it back again any time soon. There was no denying they were in deep shit.

She studied her companions. Not far from Wallswell, and at right angles to her, Ianto was propped up against the lift housing hands and ankles bound like the rest of them. His normal immaculate appearance was marred by unidentifiable stains on his suit and a trickle of dried blood on his temple. He had regained consciousness but was sunk in retrospection – she preferred to call it that rather than the more accurate despair. Glancing sideways, she caught the profiles of Toshiko and beyond her Owen. They were stoical and she hoped that one of them was thinking up a brilliant way out of their current predicament because she was damned if she could. Even though she knew it was useless, Gwen pulled at her wrist bonds again.

Time was passing very slowly. Wallswell had ordered them not to speak, slapping Gwen when she disobeyed. They sat and stared at one another or up at the sky. It was still sunny and light and the nearby church clock had struck four not long ago; this whole disaster had taken just a couple of hours to unfold. Of them all, Ianto felt particularly bad about the current state of affairs. He had taken Jack, helpless in his impaired mental state, out of the Hub and abandoned him with barely a thought. Leaving him with Andy Davidson was stupid. The policeman had no idea what had happened to Jack nor of his special physiology and had probably already shipped him off to hospital. Ianto was supposed to be looking after Jack and instead he had left him among strangers. And to top it off, Ianto had been caught in the most ignominious way. Fancy letting Wallswell creep up on him like that! Had he learnt nothing from all his training? Keeping his head down, and his face averted, Ianto sank deeper into despair.

The two remaining members of the team were less pessimistic. Owen believed in fate and was prepared to wait and see what happened. Wallswell had kept them alive this long, there was no reason to assume he was going to kill them later. Provided any rescuers were sensible and didn't hit them with crossfire, Owen was confident they would be freed eventually. Waiting was boring but he could bear it. Next to him, Toshiko was still on a high from finding Owen alive and remained positive despite their situation. To keep her agile mind occupied, she was making an inventory of the weaponry and supplies. There was a lot here, from blasters to machine guns to pistols, but she couldn't see much ammunition. Had Wallswell used it all? His continuing drinking was also a problem especially as the whisky and beer were running out. How would he react when it had all gone?

In this strained atmosphere the sound of Gwen's mobile was very loud.

"What's that?" barked Wallswell. He glared at her, the blaster aimed at her midriff. "Shut it off."

"I can't," she complained, pulling at her bound arms. "It'll go to voicemail in a minute." No doubt Rhys was wondering where she was. They were having Big Dave and his wife round for dinner that night and Rhys always liked to check the menu with her even though he did most of the cooking.

"It better."

Owen saw an opening. "It might be better to answer it. Could be the paper trying to find out what's happened to us." He had grown to like the idea of being a newspaper reporter – move over Clark Kent!

With a grunt, Wallswell grabbed Gwen and patted her down until he found the mobile in her jeans pocket. The ringing stopped just as he got it out. "Huh." He flung it into her lap and went back to looking over the wall. The booze was making him sleepy and he fought to keep himself awake. "Why'd they send four of you?" he asked.

"Overkill, you know the sort of thing," said Owen blithely. "Tosh and I have been working on the Torchwood story together. Ianto there is the photographer and Gwen's a newbie who's shadowing us, learning the ropes." He smirked at Gwen's expression.

"I am not!" she protested.

"Don't try and deny it, sweetheart. She's got the hots for me too," he added with a wink.

"You are such a load of crap." She addressed Wallswell, sensing an opening. "Actually, sir, I'm investigating the death of a young girl. Rebecca Carpenter."

"Becky? Becky's dead?" Wallswell looked stunned.

"Murdered two days ago. I believe you knew her."

"She's my daughter. Little Becky." He sat staring into the distance. That didn't make sense, no one at Torchwood had a family although there were rumours that Jack had had a wife and daughter who had gone into hiding to get away from him. And yet … and yet it felt right to call Becky his daughter. He could see her performing on stage, running in the garden, sitting on his knee. He must have a daughter to remember these things and to feel this way about her but that didn't make sense …

"What was she like growing up, sir?" pressed Gwen. "She was beautiful so I guess all the boys were after her."

"Boys? I …" He couldn't remember a grown woman. His Becky was a child. "No, no." He shook his head. He was John Graham Wallswell, sergeant in the Gloucesters and now a Torchwood operative. There was no Becky. He was here to protect Cardiff from aliens, from the Jizm'll Horde.

"Can't believe that," went on Gwen. "She was way too pretty to be a wallflower. Clever too. Don't get into university without brains."

"Gwen, that's enough," said Owen softly. Wallswell was getting agitated and they didn't want him any more confused that he already was.

She decided to carry on. "You need to have your say, put your side of things in the paper. I can do that for you, John. You don't want her stepfather to hog the limelight, do you?"

"Shut up!" Wallswell was on his feet again, blaster pointed at Gwen. "Shut up, you bitch! Shut up!"

"That's no way to talk to a lady, Wally." The American drawl was familiar. "Time to go. Karen's called us back."

Ianto twisted and stared up at the tall figure leaning against the lift housing. It was Jack! Jack was here! Jack was better! Ianto's black mood lifted instantly. Toshiko almost fell over trying to get a good look at him. Beside her, Owen felt his spirits rise; you could rely on Jack to do the unexpected. Gwen was similarly happy to see her boss and smiled up at him. No one should ever write him off. Her smile faltered when she saw the strain around his eyes. He was not his old self, at least not yet. Looking more closely, she spotted a dark figure hidden behind him and opened her mouth to warn him.

"About time. Got the Horde?" Wallswell let the blaster hang loosely from one hand.

In an instant, Andy Davidson leapt out from the other side of the lift housing coming up behind Wallswell. He activated the stun gun. Wallswell arched his back, shuddered and fell to the ground partly over Ianto's legs. Panting but grinning with success, Andy looked round at the bound Torchwood team.

"How the mighty are fallen!" he crowed. His mouth fell open when he saw Owen alive and well.

At that moment, Jack's knees gave way and he crumpled to the ground. His descent was more graceful than Wallswell's as WPC Pam Jones kept hold of Jack's greatcoat and helped steady him. His greater weight pulled her down with him and she sank to her knees behind him, holding him against her chest. Jack was conscious but had closed his eyes and had both hands pressed to the sides of his head. He was obviously in pain.

"Jack!" screamed Ianto, frantically shuffling on his bottom to reach him. "Jack!"

Gwen took it all in and effortlessly took control of the situation. "Andy, untie Ianto. Now!" She waited until her former partner had sliced through the ropes. "Now us."

Ignoring everything and everyone else, Ianto went to Jack. He pushed the female police officer out of the way and took Jack in his arms, rocking him back and fro. As they rocked, he hummed softly just as he did when Jack came back from dying. He had no idea if it helped Jack, he had never asked, but it helped him. "You're safe, sir. You're safe," he murmured. He kissed the top of his head.

Rubbing sore wrists, Gwen took a moment to watch them. They were closer than she had imagined for Ianto to be so open. Turning away from them, she surveyed the scene. First task was to secure Wallswell and get him to the Hub. What they would do with him after that she had no idea but he clearly couldn't be allowed to roam around on his own. They needed the SUV brought closer and … She suddenly remembered the Krittenack was in the vehicle waiting to be neutralised.

"Tosh, we need to stop the Krittenack changing shape. Can you –"

"That's done. I put the small emitter under the SUV. Should last another couple of hours or so," said Ianto.

"Well done, Ianto. We need to get it and all this," she waved at Wallswell and the weapons, "out of here like now. Tosh, you take as much as you can carry. Andy and his friend will help you. Check the emitter then bring the SUV close as you can. Owen and I'll be down with the rest."

"Hang on just a minute," protested Andy. "That man is a murderer. This is all evidence."

"And we're Torchwood. Don't make me say it, Andy." They stood facing one another. She hated pulling rank with him but she would do it.

He sighed accepting the inevitable. No matter that he had rescued them, they would always exclude him. "You'll make sure he's not back on the streets?"

"Word of honour." She smiled sympathetically; he was a good guy.

"I don't like it, Gwen. It's not right, but I'll do it." He bent and picked up the defabricator gun. "And what's this when it's at home?"

"Just carry it, Andy. No questions." She turned to Owen who was kneeling by Wallswell. "He okay to be moved?"

"Yeah. What the hell do we do with him?" He handcuffed the unconscious man; no need to take chances.

"No idea. Just get him to the Hub for now, we can decide that later." She helped Owen get the heavier man over his shoulder and saw him on his way, trailing behind Toshiko and the two police officers.

They would need another couple of trips to gather up the rest of the guns and equipment so she took a moment to kneel by Jack and Ianto. "How is he?"

"Ask him," said Ianto with a rueful sigh.

"Okay," breathed Jack. "Killing headache."

"Need anything? There's water if you want a drink." she offered.

"Give some to the cops," Jack muttered. His immortal body was mending his brain but it was taking a long time and was more painful than coming back from the dead. It had taken considerable willpower to stay on his feet as long as he had and to speak normally. Closing his eyes he burrowed further against Ianto.

"Okay. We'll need to move him soon," she said to Ianto. "Once we've loaded up, I'll have to tell DCI Hewitt he can come back into the area. The place will be swarming." Someone would be needed to clear the remaining bodies and to make Waterstone's shop safe before opening up the area to shop owners. That reminded her to check the cover story Ianto had started, a gas explosion if she remembered correctly. As for the gunman, she'd tell Hewitt he was in Torchwood's custody and no longer a threat. That should do him.

"Another few minutes. Facing down Wallswell took it out of him." Ianto wasn't sure how he knew this, Jack had not said much, but thought it was a safe guess.

"Okay." She stood up. "How did you get here?"

"My car. It was parked by the barrier. Can you, or Andy maybe, he knows where it is, bring it downstairs? I'll help Jack down soon as he's ready." He fished the keys out his pocket.

"Okay. I'll take some of this down now."

When she had gone, Ianto shifted to relieve the pressure on his left leg, bent underneath him. "I'm so glad you're back with us, sir. I missed you. Seems a long time since you took me in the hallway." It was less than twenty-four hours but seemed a lifetime ago.

"Good, wasn't it?" said Jack. The headache was now a continuous throbbing with random bursts of pain. Manageable if he didn't move too much.

"So-so. I think you could do better if you tried."

"Damn right, I can. You been looking after me?"

"Uh-huh. You were a messy patient. Dribble everywhere."

"Sorry."

"Oh, I don't mind wiping up after you. I'm used to it."

"Not what I meant. Sorry for worrying you."

Tears pricked the back of Ianto's eyes and he blinked them away. Jack did not show concern or affection often and this was more than Ianto had expected. The two men sat in silence for a few more minutes until Owen reappeared for more of the equipment.

* * *

><p><em>Yay, Jack and Andy to the rescue. Just the clear up to sort out now ...<em>


	15. Chapter 14

_The team start getting back to normal ..._

* * *

><p><strong>Getting Even<strong>

Chapter Fourteen

Cardiff was returning to normal.

The city centre had been cleared of bodies and debris and streets were re-opening for traffic and people. Most shops and other businesses in the affected area were staying closed for the rest of the day at least, possibly the weekend, as a mark of respect and in order to check the premises for damage. The police were busy pushing Toshiko's cover story of a crazed gunman with a grudge who had killed himself. There had been enough incidents of this kind to satisfy the media and the public. With an as yet unnamed perpetrator and no one to convict, the current interest was unlikely to last long especially with the murder of Rebecca Carpenter still unsolved. Soon only the families and friends of the twelve people killed would remember the incident. After all, there were a lot of even stranger happenings in Cardiff every week.

In the Hub, the Torchwood team were winding down after their own clear-up. They were gathered in the work area, mugs of coffee in their hands. Toshiko and Gwen were watching a televised press statement given by DCI Hewitt. He was standing in High Street, Waterstone's blown out frontage in the background.

" … _two separate incidents. The explosion you see behind me was a gas leak which is currently under investigation. Quite unrelated, a gunman, who cannot be named for legal reasons, with a grudge against the police killed five police officers, chosen at random, and seven civilians. Our thoughts are with the family and friends of these twelve people. _

"_Cardiff is not alone in suffering at the hands of a lone gunman. There have been similar horrendous incidents in both England and Scotland as well in the United States. Wales is not immune. But our plan to contain the gunman in a small part of the city worked. I stress that this was not a terrorist attack. I hope that the …"_

"Not bad," said Gwen having heard enough. "Are the media buying it?"

"Seems so. They'll release Wallswell's name tomorrow. We can't disguise the fact it was him. Too many people saw him and there's stuff on Facebook and Twitter," said Toshiko.

"That's okay. Turned out better than I thought it would." Gwen had given Andy and Pam Jones a mild dose of Retcon to blur their memory of Wallswell being alive. Better they too thought he had died.

"You all did very well," said Jack. He was sitting on the couch, holding a mug of coffee in both hands. The headache had dulled but he was careful not to move his head too quickly.

Owen laughed. "Blimey, he's doing his old Mr Grace impression now. What'll it be next? Compo?" They all laughed. *

"So much for being a regular boss." Jack pulled a face. "I'll not bother next time."

"We're used to you as you are, Jack," said Gwen, coming over to sit beside him. "And you won't think that when you read the reports. We were a right load of rubbish."

"Speak for yourself," objected Owen.

"You got the right result, that's what matters," said Jack. "Wally's in our custody and the Krittenack's dead." Wallswell was in a cell, sedated until there was time to investigate ways of treating him. The Krittenack had been incinerated, Owen had insisted on that. He didn't want anything looking like him anywhere in the Hub.

"And twelve people died," commented Gwen sombrely.

"Could have been a hell of a lot more," said Owen. "You gonna tell us how you beat the madness?" he asked Jack.

Jack shrugged. "I have no idea. But thanks for looking after me." He glanced up at Ianto who was standing nearby, quietly watching.

"That was Ianto," said Toshiko proudly. "He insisted."

"Did a good job too," added Owen. "Didn't need that doctor of yours after all."

"The Doctor!" exclaimed Jack.

"Thought he might be able to fix you. Tried to get in touch but Ianto was right, we couldn't reach him."

Jack stared at them all, his gaze coming to rest on Ianto.

"I told them it was a stupid idea. He's hardly likely to make house calls."

With a smile, Jack said, "No. Not his style at all." He closed his eyes briefly as a spasm of pain crossed behind his eyes. He was grateful his body had mended itself but wished it would hurry up and finish the job.

"I'll need to know a lot more about Wallswell before I start with him tomorrow," said Owen. "Need all you can tell me, Jack."

"Not now," said Ianto firmly. "Jack's tired and needs to rest. You should all go home."

"Ooo, and who made you the boss, teaboy?"

"He's right, there's no need for everyone to stay," said Gwen. "Why don't you take Jack to your place, Ianto? We'll work out a way to keep an eye on things here." She smiled when the young Welshman coloured slightly.

"There's nothing on the predictor," reported Toshiko. "Should be a quiet night."

"Then I'll stay here," said Jack. "You get off home." He smiled round at Gwen, Owen and Toshiko. "But keep your mobiles switched on."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't mind getting off, got people coming round for dinner, but I can stay," Gwen said, checking the clock. Rhys had been on the 'phone again and she had had to prevaricate. "But you shouldn't be alone, Jack." She glanced up at Ianto.

"I'll be here for a while," he said. "Want to sort out the armoury before I leave."

"That's all right then." Owen rubbed his hands together. "Fancy a drink, Tosh?"

She was startled by the offer. He rarely suggested an evening out, just the two of them, and even though she was tired, she was not going to refuse. "Yeah, thanks."

-ooOoo-

Standing under a hot shower, Andy Davidson washed away the stress and strain of the day along with the dirt. The plastic cover over his splinted wrist crackled as he soaped himself. This and the few scrapes to his face and hands were the only visible reminders of an horrendous day. It had started early and got progressively worse.

Dry and dressed in a tracksuit, he slumped in the leather recliner in front of the television with a can of lager. His thoughts were not on the film, one he had seen many times before, but on the events of the day. Mike Hughes had left a widow and young son. Andy had met the widow briefly, wanting to express his sympathies and explain how Hughes had saved his life. An awkward five minutes, he was pleased it was behind him. The station had been subdued after so many losses; Pugh, Collins, Myers, Hastings and Bell. Andy had worked with them all and had put his name down to attend the funerals. He raised his beer can and drank to them. He could so easily have joined them.

What he still couldn't understand was why Wallswell had done it. He was an ordinary bloke. He was in Cardiff because his daughter had been murdered. Why had he started shooting people? Where had he got the guns? And, most puzzling of all, what was his connection with Torchwood? They were a weird lot, including that Owen with his exact double. That was something he'd have expected from Harkness, who was one seriously weird bloke. At first Andy had though he was drunk, with his mumbled words and uncontrolled movements. But that hadn't accounted for the rest and he'd finally decided the man was ill. Which, the longer Andy thought about it, made it all the more curious that he had gone along with Harkness's plan.

Not that he regretted it. He'd remember seeing Gwen and her buddies tied up and helpless for a long time to come. Nice to see them brought down a peg or two. Though he should have stopped them taking Wallswell's body, must have been mad to agree to that. He took another drink.

-ooOoo-

The cleaned weapons were back in their racks on the walls of the armoury. It had taken Ianto over an hour to check them all and update the register but he felt happier now it was done.

"Looks better." Jack leant against the doorjamb, hands in his pockets.

"So do you."

"All fixed now." The headache had finally receded leaving his brain firing on all cylinders.

"Good." Ianto stood awkwardly, hands on hips. He had removed his jacket earlier and his tie hung at half-mast. The plaster on his temple and ruffled hair added to the rakish look.

"What's bothering you?"

"Nothing."

"There is. Look, if you said stuff to me when I was … out of my mind, forget about it. I heard your voice but none of it made sense. Like I'm guessing my attempts didn't."

"You were talking?" Ianto took a pace forward.

Jack laughed. "Trying to tell you turn off those lights!"

Ianto's face fell. "I'm sorry. I thought they'd help. That –"

"The idea was good, Ianto, just … distracting. So, what's on your mind?"

The Welshman shrugged then sighed deeply. "I was useless today. Obviously didn't look after you properly and then I let myself be overpowered by Wallswell. I should have heard him! I'm not fit to be on operations."

"You have a point. You're off ops from now." Jack paused then added, "Along with Owen and Tosh and Gwen because they were taken in just the same way. Seems I'll be all on my own again. Maybe I'll ask that nice policeman to help out, until I get you all trained up properly."

"All right," conceded Ianto with a small smile. "But I should have been paying more attention."

Jack closed the distance between them and placed both hands round the younger man's waist. "How about we do some one on one? I'll creep up on you when you're not expecting it and –"

"That's harassment, sir." Ianto wrapped his arms round Jack's neck.

"No, that's training." He leant forward and their lips met. The gentle kiss developed but before it became passionate, Jack pulled back. "Not quite up for that yet. Rain check?"

"Ahh … yeah." Ianto ran a hand gently through Jack's hair, cupping his cheek. The light was back in Jack's eyes with the usual intelligence shining through but the skin around the blue orbs was taut with strain. Recovering from this had taken a lot of out of him. "Come home with me. Just to sleep," he added hastily.

"Thanks, but no. You should get off though. It's been a long day for us all." Reluctantly, he released the slim, young body.

"I'll stay here. You really shouldn't be alone."

"Bed's a bit small for two."

"I know." Ianto rolled his eyes. "But we can scrunch up. Or I'll take the couch, I don't mind."

Jack smiled. "Let's start in the bed together and see how it goes. When I'm feeling fitter, we can try out the exam table. I kinda liked being in those restraints with you looking after me."

"You are so predictable, sir."

They were laughing as they walked slowly to the office and the sleeping quarters.

-ooOoo-

"You're too good for me," said Owen.

"It's just geometry. Angles and stuff," Toshiko said. "Another drink?"

Owen put the pool cues back in the rack. The pub was busy, full of people talking about the events of the day. "No, thanks. Think I'll head home."

"Okay." Toshiko knew she shouldn't always agree with Owen but she so wanted him to notice her as a woman, not just a colleague, she couldn't help herself. She gathered up her belongings and was startled when Owen held out the leather coat for her to put on. "Thanks."

"I'll walk you to your car. Don't want any more crazies attacking you."

"I thought it was the bloke who murdered Rebecca Carpenter." She shivered slightly.

"Still out there, I suppose. Somewhere. Wonder if the coppers will get him anytime soon?"

"I hope so."

-ooOoo-

Dave and Susy left shortly after midnight, back to their suburban semi and two kids. Gwen and Rhys waved them off then walked back up to the flat. They stood in the living area surveying the mess. Dirty crockery littered every counter in the kitchen. Empty beer cans and wine bottles covered the coffee table and spilled over onto the floor. The air was heavy with cooking smells.

"Is it worth it?" asked Gwen.

"Course it is. Can't lose touch with all our friends, Gwen." He picked up a bottle of wine. "Want to finish this?"

"Why not." She found a reasonably clean glass and held it out.

Gwen sipped the rich, red Merlot as Rhys rooted around and found an unopened can. They sat on the couch and drank in silence for a while, content with their own company after the dinner party. Big Dave had been at university with them and they'd known Susy almost as long. There had been no shortage of things to talk about, although Gwen found Susy's obsession with her kids boring after a while. She supposed that was what happened when you were stuck at home looking after them all day.

"Do little kids want tellies in their room?" asked Rhys suddenly.

"The parents do. Keeps them quiet."

He shook his head, puzzled. "And what was all that about special tutoring? The kid's only three!"

"It starts early these days."

"Why?" He looked at her, genuinely puzzled.

"Got to be one up on all the other kids." She finished the wine. "Come on, let's get this place sorted." She squeezed his knee.

"You look whacked. Go to bed, I'll do this."

She smiled at him. "You are one in a million, Rhys Williams." They kissed.

As she got ready for bed, she wondered about Rebecca Carpenter's parents. They must have thought their parenting was almost over. That Rebecca would get a good degree, find love and eventually produce a couple of grandkids. Instead she had been taken from them and all their dreams had died with her. Made you wonder why anyone ever had kids in the first place.

* * *

><p><em>* For those readers who don't know, 'old Mr Grace' is a character from Are You Being Served? and 'Compo' from Last of the Summer Wine.<em>

_Two more chapters to go ..._


	16. Chapter 15

_The penultimate chapter, and it's rated **M** for one scene between Jack and ianto (who else!) Enjoy ... _

* * *

><p><strong>Getting Even<strong>

Chapter Fifteen

Pulling on his shirt and stuffing bare feet into shoes, Ianto went in search of Jack. He had been alone in the bunk when he woke, some sixth sense alerting him to the void beside him. It was two thirty in the morning, barely five hours since they had got to bed and almost exactly twenty-four hours since the Krittenack had attacked Jack. Had he suffered a relapse? Checking the monitor, Ianto found heat signatures in the cells and headed that way.

Jack looked up when the half-clad figure appeared through the cell block door. He smiled, took a swig from a bottle of water then went back to looking into the cell. "He's worn well."

Ianto stepped forward. John Wallswell lay on his side, breathing deeply and evenly. He looked peaceful, a far cry from the man who had gone on a murderous rampage in Cardiff. "What do you mean?"

"Not many grey hairs. Or wrinkles. Not even a paunch."

"You sound disappointed. And he's only fifty."

Jack drank more water. "He was a pain in the bum to work with."

"You think it was the Retcon that … sent him crazy?" Ianto pulled the shirt fully closed. It was cold.

"Maybe. You should be in bed."

"Missed you."

"I'm okay, Ianto."

He gestured to the door and they walked out of the block and up to the main level. Myfanwy glided silently above them as they headed for the office and the bunker beneath. Responding to Ianto's unspoken question, Jack followed the Welshman down the ladder and allowed him to remove first Jack's then his own clothes. They kissed.

"On the bed."

Jack obeyed and lay on his back, hard pillow under his hips, as Ianto straddled him. Feather light kisses traced his collarbone, pecs and moved down to his abs. Jack closed his eyes and enjoyed every kiss, waiting for the next with heightened anticipation as Ianto neared his goal. A moist tongue licked his balls and ran up the side of his stiffening cock before they were taken into a soft, warm mouth.

"More," Jack groaned softly.

The warmth receded and the bed springs creaked as Ianto shifted position. "What do you say?" A fingernail ran over sensitive skin and Jack arched his back.

"Argh!" He opened his eyes. "Please?"

"No." Ianto sat back, resting on Jack's legs which were between his own. Crossing his arms, he looked down sternly with one eyebrow raised.

"Sir?" The sly grin told him he had got it right. "Please, sir, I want some more."

Pinning Jack's arms above his head, Ianto leant forward and took a kiss. Ruthlessly he invaded with tongue and nipped with teeth. Their cocks, both erect, swayed and touched adding to the build up of desire in both men, especially Jack. When Ianto pulled away, he kept Jack pinned to the bed and attacked his nipples. Eyes closed, Jack enjoyed the sensations pulsing from his breast to his groin. He did not notice when his arms were released but they must have been for hands had grabbed his cock and balls.

"Yes!" he moaned.

If Jack had expected a swift climax, he was to be disappointed. Ianto had other plans. It was another thirty frustrating minutes before Jack shuddered and cried out as his semen spurted over Ianto's hand.

-ooOoo-

At the police station it was business as usual. Life in the city rarely stood still and there was plenty to keep the constabulary busy. A special service at Llandaff Cathedral attended by local dignitaries including the Chief Constable required a uniformed presence. Patrols had been stepped up in the city centre to provide reassurance for nervous citizens. A man had drowned in the Ely requiring identification. An interrupted burglary had put the thief in hospital. There was no time to mourn fallen colleagues.

Inspector Janice Ostwell, drafted in to take charge of the Rebecca Carpenter murder enquiry, decided to go ahead with an appeal for information by the parents. Mr and Mrs Carpenter were due to return to Leicester later that day and were keen to participate. It was a bad decision. The reporters listened attentively, asked a few questions then moved onto the events of the day before. Ostwell foolishly got drawn into revealing that the gunman was Rebecca's biological father. The resulting feeding frenzy was appalling and in the middle sat Brian and Carole Carpenter like rabbits caught in the headlights.

At the end of her emotional tether, Carole stood up and screamed, "My daughter's dead! That's what we're here for! Don't you care? The bastard that killed her is out there getting ready to kill again!"

Her husband tried ineffectively to quieten her and eventually they were escorted from the room by Andy Davidson and the Family Liaison Officer. Leaving them with the FLO, Andy headed back to the incident room in time to see DCI Antony Hewitt storm into Inspector Ostwell's office and slam the door. His raised voice was clear for all to hear until Sergeant Miller turned up the radio and got everyone back to work. The normal sounds of ringing telephones, printers and chat only partially drowned out the shouting.

"Two to one we have a new governor before the day's out."

Andy looked up from checking CCTV images and saw Peter Mikelson grinning down at him. "Give it a rest, Pete."

Mikelson pulled a face and sauntered off. Andy went back to the monitor and the seemingly infinite pile of discs to be checked. Ostwell had made a complete balls of the press appeal. The emotional punch of Carole Carpenter's statement had been lost in the fiasco that followed. If only one person with information decided not to come forward it was a cock-up of gigantic proportions. Maybe Ostwell would get her marching orders, Andy didn't much care, all he wanted was to find Rebecca's killer.

Silence fell in the room as Hewitt appeared and marched off, Ostwell trailing in his wake. She held her head high but couldn't meet anyone's gaze. The Chief Superintendent was waiting for her and would be even less pleased than Hewitt; she knew her career was on the line. When the door swung shut behind them, Peter Mikelson and his cronies started making comments about over-promoted women officers until Sergeant Miller shut them up. Andy stuck with his task. He had been on this case from the start, had been one of the few to see Rebecca alive, albeit in hospital, and he was desperate for a breakthrough.

-ooOoo-

After being quiet overnight, the Rift kept them busy all morning. It was therefore midday before the team met in the boardroom to discuss the previous day's events. Jack was at the head of the table, greedily eating the pizza Ianto had provided for an early lunch. The team watched indulgently, willing to forgive Jack's messy eating habits for the pleasure of having him back where he belonged.

"Okay, let's start," Jack said between mouthfuls. "Tosh, you got the time line I asked for?"

She activated the plasma screen. "I've listed the key moments using police records and our own knowledge. The starting point is the attack on Rebecca Louise Carpenter in the early hours of Wednesday morning." A photograph of the attractive student appeared on screen.

"I saw her later that morning when Andy asked about the wounds. He thought they were suspicious but he thinks everything is these days." Gwen took a bite of pizza.

"He'd usually be right," commented Owen. "Only not this time, ordinary knife wounds. She died on Thursday morning of a brain haemorrhage following a blow to the head. Nothing suspicious."

"This next bit is what John Wallswell, Rebecca's biological father, told the police," said Toshiko. "He says he was at home in Glasgow when he saw the news reports – BBC did a longish piece - and drove down the next day in time to meet PC Davidson on Friday afternoon. After an initial interview he went out for a cigarette and that was the last anyone saw of him until ten thirty that night when he overpowered me and got into the Hub." She turned to face Jack. "I'm really sorry I didn't put up a better fight. He just took me by surprise."

"I understand." Jack smiled to reassure her. "Might be worth reviewing security protocols when we have the time. But obviously something happened to Wally after leaving the police station to send him here. What?"

"Tosh has theory," said Owen with a smile. "It's a bit offbeat."

"If you can come up with something better …" Toshiko glared at him.

"Sounded feasible to me and it is the only theory we have," said Gwen. "Tell him, Tosh."

Toshiko outlined her theory about the Countryside Alliance demonstrators dressed as stags triggering a long buried memory of the Jizm'll Horde. Believing himself back in 1982, Wallswell entered the Hub for weapons and set up a sniper's nest on the roof of Boots on High Street. His early morning trip to Tesco Express for supplies was the next known sighting of him, at three thirty-four on Saturday morning. "Of course," concluded Toshiko, "the theory only works if that corresponds with his last operation. The records aren't detailed enough to tell." She looked expectantly at Jack.

"Could be. It was a large scale attack, a prelude to invasion, that we were lucky to contain." He looked at the picture of the Jizm'll Toshiko had brought up on the screen. "Wally was a marksman, about the only thing he was good at. He'd have been there, it was a key point."

"Why was he sacked?" asked Ianto. As always, he was the quietest of the team but ready to ask the pertinent question.

"Bad attitude. Drinking. Basically he didn't fit in. There were too many bodies anyway and Karen decided she didn't need him."

Owen leant forward. "You gave him Retcon, I presume? How much?"

"A lot. Had to recreate two years so I took him on a little road trip. Gave him a couple of low dosage pills a day over about a week along with suggestions of an alternative time line. When I'd finished, he'd forgotten about Torchwood."

"You just love fucking with people's minds," complained Gwen. "That stuff is dangerous!"

"You'd rather I'd killed him?"

She had no answer to this and fumed silently. The others looked on, amused that she felt so strongly. What they didn't realise was that Gwen's unease was not just for herself. She had given Retcon to Rhys and couldn't forgive herself. Surely he'd have forgiven her affair with Owen? Problem was, she didn't think he would have.

"Where did you leave him?" Toshiko asked Jack. "He married Carole Myers in April 1988 in Liverpool but there's nothing before that."

"Not sure. I thought it was Manchester but it could have been Liverpool."

"From what we know about Retcon," said Owen, "it's most likely that returning to Cardiff and seeing what he thought was the Jizm'll Horde broke through the conditioning. I'm guessing, but suddenly recovering those memories after twenty-six years on top of the shock of his daughter's death could have been more than enough to confuse the poor bugger."

"So he's not responsible for his actions?" asked Ianto.

"Probably not."

"Fucked up by Torchwood," added Gwen.

"Aren't we all?"

Jack considered that the truest statement he had heard for a long time. They had all been affected by the organisation, him more than anyone given the length of time he had worked for it. His changes had improved things a bit but not enough. He had to do better if this team wasn't to go the way of all the others. "Assuming all that's correct, or as near as, what started Wally shooting people?"

"On his second visit to Tesco there more protestors done up as stags," said Toshiko. She changed the screen to show CCTV footage of the incident. "I believe that made him think the Horde had arrived. Plus, PC Davidson had been called and he was wearing one of those high-visibility jackets. See?" She pointed to the screen.

"Bright orange, like the Jizm'll," agreed Jack. He grinned at Gwen. "Wonder how your friendly copper would like that comparison?"

Gwen sighed. "Knowing him, he'd love it. We got involved not long after when we realised who the police were searching for. And everything went tits-up from that point on." She sat back, still disgusted with her handling of the incident.

"Stop it, Gwen." Jack fixed her with a steady gaze. "Blaming yourself doesn't alter anything. Accept it and move on." He waiting until she gave a small nod. "I think I've got the rest. Wally holes up on the roof and you all go after him. Not sure where the Krittenack fits in though."

Owen threw down a pizza crust. "Only fucking takes my shape!"

"He did that here in the Hub. Tried to fool me into thinking it was you."

"He did? Bloody cheek!"

"It turned up right after some more firing," said Gwen, "and was shot." She considered it better not to say that she had been doing the shooting. "We, of course, thought it was Owen. Especially as this one had wandered off and wasn't answering the comms." She glared at him.

"I was trailing Wallswell! Before he got the jump on me," Owen admitted.

Ignoring the pair of them, Ianto spoke up. "The scan for ploinine energy settled on that spot just after Gwen and Tosh went to face Wallswell. The energy was building so I went out to neutralise it. Took you with me, sir."

"Which was a good thing, seeing as you all got captured and I had to rescue you. With a little help from PC Davidson and a very pretty young lady constable." Jack grinned.

"We noticed," said Ianto dryly.

"Okay, I think we're more or less clear about what happened and why. And now Wally's name is out there too."

Toshiko grimaced. "Hewitt was supposed to release it this evening but Inspector Ostwell got there first. Police are trying to manage the media but …" She shrugged.

"As long as they think he's dead. Owen, you work on a treatment plan for Wally. I'd like to give him some kind of a future if possible. Gwen, work with Tosh and see if we can't find Rebecca's murderer."

* * *

><p><em>Last chapter coming up, and Gwen has a present for Andy ...<em>


	17. Chapter 16

_The last chapter ..._

* * *

><p><strong>Getting Even<strong>

Chapter Sixteen

"I'm sorry, Wally, Torchwood screwed you up. But I want to make amends. You can't go back to your old life but with these you can make a new one, maybe one that's better."

John Wallswell picked up the British passport and turned it over a time or two before opening the back cover. His face looked out at him. The date of birth and other details were correct except for the name. This identified him as Walter John Grahame as did the heavy vehicle driving license he'd already looked at. He laid the passport down and took up the one-way 'plane ticket to Melbourne, Australia, business class, also in the name of Walter Grahame. Also on the table were: a mobile phone; a stack of Australian dollars; credit and bank cards for an account containing sufficient money to last him six months, more if he was careful; details of jobs for long-distance lorry drivers and references from previous employers; and a pre-paid hotel booking for one month.

Wallswell looked up. "Okay."

"You won't regret it. Be a fresh start for you." Jack smiled and stood up. "Let's go and see if we can find Ianto. I need a coffee." He made for the stairs that led out of the interrogation room.

"Jack, why are you doing all this? I killed twelve people."

Jack stopped on the first stair. "You didn't know what you were doing. Normally I'd have given you Retcon but that's what started this. Better you know what happened and deal with it head on. Fresh start in a fresh location will help. Least, that's what my doc says."

"Karen would have shot me. In the old days, so would you."

"That was a long time ago and things have changed. I've changed." The two men stared at one another for a long minute then Wallswell nodded once and took a step forward.

Owen moved away from the viewing window. "They're on their way up."

"We know." Gwen was standing by Toshiko watching and listening to the CCTV feed. "Does it sound stupid to say I'm glad he accepted?"

"Not as stupid as a lot of things you've said." Owen reached his desk and sat down, swivelling round to face the two women.

"I'm glad too," put in Toshiko, heading off an argument. "Like Jack said, Wally didn't know what he was doing."

It was Monday, two days after the shootings. Cardiff residents had taken this latest incident in their stride and were back in their normal routines. Those who had lost loved ones were grieving in private, keeping out of the spotlight as much as possible. Local and national media were divided between sympathy for 'the grieving father driven to despair' and 'an avenging killer' but as he had committed suicide no one would ever know the truth. John Wallswell would soon fade in people's memories and become just a name in dusty newspaper archives and electronic databases.

The man himself had been shattered when told of what he had done. Owen had spent hours with him, talking and administering medication as necessary. Jack had helped too, spending all Sunday night and into the early hours of Monday morning listening to and reassuring his one-time colleague. Gradually, Wallswell had accepted that the Retcon given him twenty-six years before had made him temporarily crazy and was responsible for the deaths. His practical nature reasserted itself and he was resigned to a quick death, that was the way of the Torchwood he now remembered. Instead he had been offered a new start. He had rebuilt his life once after finding himself in Manchester without a job or a home, he could do it again in Australia. His single biggest regret was that he had not been a better father to Becky; her loss would be with him for the rest of his life. Penance of a sort.

"Ah, Ianto, just the thing." Jack paused as the Welshman approached with a tray. "You don't know what you're missing, Wally."

"If he prefers tea, that's fine. Here you are, sir." Ianto held the tray for Wallswell.

"Thanks. It's very good tea." He sipped it.

"Not as good as the coffee," said Jack. Mug in hand, he was walking to the work area. "Wally here has decided to take up our offer of relocation. Everything in place?"

"Documentation's all done, as you know," pointed out Toshiko. She'd worked hard to get it all finished in time and establish an electronic history for Walter Grahame that would convince anyone who decided to look. "Flight leaves Heathrow at 21.30 tonight."

"I've got clothes and other necessities downstairs," said Ianto. "We can go through them when you like, make sure I've not forgotten anything."

"Not very likely," said Jack. "Get him to pack for you. Ianto loves putting things into small spaces."

"Christ, Jack, give it a rest!" protested Owen. "I'll give you a supply of those anti-depressants you're on, Wally. Take them when you feel you need them but no more than once a day."

"And I'll run you to the airport. Only take a couple of hours up the motorway," said Jack. He was still grinning at Ianto's pained expression.

"Thank you. I was saying to Jack, I don't feel I deserve all this," said Wallswell. "Especially after what I did to you all." He was embarrassed to remember how he had trussed them up and kept them captive.

"Showed up some serious deficiencies in current training levels." Jack wagged a finger at his team. "There's going to be some more training over the next few weeks. Can't have you overpowered by any old codger who comes along."

"He as bad as this in your day?" Gwen asked Wally.

"No, he was quieter back then. Must be power gone to his head." Finding Jack was heading the Torchwood Cardiff team had been a surprise. In the 1980s he had been disaffected and detached, staying for reasons known only to himself.

"You can say that again," commented Owen. Jack clipped him round the ear. "Ow!"

Ignoring them, Gwen said, "We've been monitoring the police investigation. Rebecca's murderer will be arrested later today and there's enough evidence to convict. We'll see to that."

He swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I'm grateful. Who was it?"

"A man who got obsessed with her. Someone she didn't even know, not properly."

Wally realised she was not going to say any more. "Totally senseless then. She deserved better. A longer life and a happier one." He got out a handkerchief and blew his nose.

Toshiko broke the moment's silence. "I printed these off, thought you might like to have them. They'll go in your wallet." She handed Wally two photographs. One was the picture that had appeared on television screens and newspaper front pages. The other was of a happy twelve-year old dressed as Little Orphan Annie taken from the programme for a school play.

He looked at them for several minutes before putting them in his shirt pocket. He'd keep the one of the young Becky and lose the other somewhere; he hadn't known that young woman. "Thanks," he said with a small smile.

"Why don't we go and do that packing?" suggested Ianto.

"Good idea. Off you go, Wally." Jack patted him of the back and watched as the two men walked through the arch to one of the nearer storerooms. "Nice thought, Tosh."

-ooOoo-

The playground had recently been refurbished with safer swings, slide and roundabout. Sitting on a bench, Gwen wondered if protecting kids from all danger was sensible. Better to have a few scraped knees and elbows now to teach them to be careful later. She checked her watch; he was late. If he didn't get here soon they'd have to find cover. Rain clouds were obscuring the sun and looked about to release a downpour. Even the weather was back to normal.

She looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. Out of uniform, Andy looked thin and weedy, and taller. Watching him, she wondered how often she had seen him in civilian clothes. Not many, she decided. She had accepted less than a dozen of his invitations for an after-work drink and they didn't socialise otherwise. He had male friends on the force and went drinking with them but girlfriends were never around for long. They were missing out on a good fella.

"This better be important. I've got a hot date tonight." Andy plonked down beside her.

She doubted that but let it go unchallenged. "Present for you." She handed over the large manila envelope that had been on the bench beside her.

"Too late for Valentine's Day." He held the envelope suspiciously.

"You're not supposed to sign the cards, Andy."

Realising he had inadvertently told her he had not received any cards, he blustered, "Got to address the envelope though. Recognise your scrawl anywhere."

"Ever heard of typing? Stop sodding about and open it."

He examined the envelope some more and then finally opened it. He pulled out a 10x8 glossy colour photograph. The head and shoulders view was of a young man looking to the right. Andy recognised him immediately. "This is the bloke from the pub!"

"Conal John O'Reilly. Irish national. Date of birth 14 September 1984. That makes him 24. He works over here ten months of the year and goes home to Cork for the other two. Been a bricklayer for Morris and Sons in Tremorfa for the past couple of years." She paused for effect. "He's got a hot temper and an eye for the girls. A girlfriend in Ireland reported him for attempted rape but the charges were dropped. He likes to drink in Kitty Flynn's but hasn't been back since last Wednesday."

Andy stared at her open-mouthed. Since the original tip-off on Friday, he and some colleagues had been trying to identify this man. They had talked to staff and customers at the bar but while they recognised him as a semi-regular none had known his name. The CCTV image was far less clear than this picture but it was the same man. How had Gwen got all this information? How did she know he was under investigation? "How?" he asked helplessly.

"Lives in a studio at 35 Arran Street. Second floor," she went on ignoring the question. "He's there right now. Hasn't been to work this week, not since finding out Rebecca died. Only trips are to the off-licence on the corner. He'll probably confess all, he's already dropped big hints to one Thomas Henderson, a fellow brickie." She met his gaze. "I suggest you get back into your nice uniform and get round there soon as." She stood up. "All I've just told you is in the envelope with some stuff from Ireland about the attempted rape."

"But …" He stared up at her.

"Come on, Andy. You want to get him, don't you?"

"How can I use this?"

"Confidential informant." She started walking along the path.

Andy peeked in the envelope and saw several sheets of paper. Stuffing the photograph back in, he hurried after her. Putting a hand on her arm, he said, "Gwen, please, just stop a minute. How'd you get all this?"

"You helped us, we help you. Jack said he owed you."

He couldn't help the swell of pride. Torchwood had owed him and paid him back a hundredfold. With this information they'd be able to get a killer off the streets and he was the one with the information. There was only one thing he had to be sure about. "Did he do it, Gwen? This O'Reilly?"

"Make sure you look under his wardrobe. Take care, Andy." With that she walked out of the playground as the first drops of rain fell.

-ooOoo-

On Tuesday they decided to go to Kitty Flynn's even though they didn't usually go into the city centre; this was a special occasion. Owen stood at the bar waiting for the barman to look in his direction. The place was busy – mainly office workers delaying going home – but not that crowded that he should have to wait this long. He looked round. The pub was a riot of green - some permanent and the rest in anticipation of St Patrick's Day in four days' time - with shamrocks and leprechauns and all the other tat associated with Ireland. Owen hated themed pubs. He waved his twenty pound note again but the barman continued to ignore him.

"Go and help him, Jack," said Gwen. "I'm gasping." Her first gin and tonic had gone in just a couple of gulps and she needed another.

"Why me?"

"Because you know every barman and barmaid in the city," said Ianto dryly. "Slept with most."

Jack grinned and looked hurt at the same time. "You know that's not true." He placed a hand on Ianto's knee, running it up the thigh to the groin.

"Not here!" Ianto pushed the hand away. "Go get the drinks."

With much huffing and puffing, Jack left the table and crossed to the bar. He stood beside Owen. "They've sent me to –"

"What can I get you, sir?" The barman had arrived and, ignoring Owen, was addressing Jack.

Jack eyed the young man up and down, from his light ginger hair to his firm arse. "I can think of lots of things but my friend here wants some drinks."

"I've been standing here for ages," complained Owen. "Didn't you see me?"

"No. Sorry." The barman smiled at Jack who smiled back.

"Drinks?" prompted Owen. "I want two pints of Brains, a vodka tonic, gin and tonic and a glass of water."

"Make that a Jameson's. When in Dublin …" Jack leant nonchalantly on the bar still admiring the barman.

"Right, no water, a Jameson's instead." Owen was relieved when the young man finally stopped staring at Jack and started pulling pints. A few minutes later, they were all back at the table. "Cheers," said Owen, sipping his beer.

"Cheers," responded the others except Jack who said, "Slàinte."

"That's Scottish," pointed out Toshiko.

Jack shrugged. "They're all Celts. What you got?" he asked Ianto who was checking his mobile.

"Text from Wally. He's at the hotel. Says the flight was long and boring and it's raining. He's going to bed." Ianto snapped the mobile shut. Over the next few weeks and possibly months, Ianto would keep an eye on the newly-christened Wally Grahame and make sure he settled in.

"To Wally." Jack lifted his glass and the others did the same. "Saw Andy Pandy on the news before we came out. Actually praised by the Chief Inspector for finding Rebecca's killer. 'Good police work always triumphs' or something like that." Conal O'Reilly had been arrested the day before after the murder weapon had been discovered under the floorboards beneath a wardrobe. He later confessed to stalking and murdering Rebecca Carpenter

Gwen glared at Jack. "Andy Pandy? Do you mean Andy Davidson?"

"That's such a great name for him," spluttered Owen, wiping froth off his nose. Toshiko had a big grin on her face too.

"Thank you." Jack took a little bow.

"That's so disrespectful," complained Gwen.

"Who's Andy Pandy?" asked Ianto.

Owen answered him. "Kid's TV character. A puppet. I always liked Looby Lou."

"Oh no! Teddy in his bow-tie was my favourite," said Toshiko.

The conversation degenerated into a discussion of children's television shows with added singing of the theme songs. It was a great evening.

* * *

><p><em>And so we leave the team. Many thanks to everyone who has read this story with cookies to those who also reviewed. I appreciate it guys - Jay.<em>


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